Hemidemisemiferal

I went to an online manga drawing class put on by my local Japan America Society tonight. I haven't drawn in years, and I haven't really had any formal instruction, so I made a conscious decision before going in that I Was going to forget everything I think I know about drawing and just follow the teacher's instructions, even if they don't make sense to me or if I think I can see a better way, and to trust in the process. I think I did okay!

I got an email yesterday from one of my professors who I've been using as a reference. She said she had a student who was in the process of applying to grad school and was looking to hire an editor to help him improve one of his papers for inclusion with his applications. She remembered that I had experience in editing and wanted to know if I'd be okay with her passing on my contact information to him. I was up front with her about my editing experience (I've done lots of copyediting, style editing, and fact-checking, but no real heavy-duty developmental editing other than on my own writing), and said if she still felt comfortable recommending me to him I was interested. After reading this, she said was comfortable recommending me and would be passing my information on to him.

Now we finally get to the question part of this post: I've never hired an editor. I've never worked as a free-lance editor of this sort. But I know a lot of you have editing experience and/or ties to universities, so I'm hoping you can give me some guidance here: How much do editors usually charge for something like this? Should I be charging by the hour or by word count or what? At this point I have absolutely nothing to go on other than my instinctive valuation of money, which I already know is seriously fucked up from years of being broke.

One of the books I'm currently reading is volume 3 of I'm in Love with the Villainess, a Japanese light novel by Inori. As I was reading this morning, I was struck by this quote from one of the characters:

They say the elderly tend to look back fondly on the past; I think it's because we envy our younger selves, who had yet to make the mistake we've made now. It's easier to wish to change your past than to acknowledge what you've done.

While I wouldn't classify myself as elderly, I can certainly relate to this idea — when I look back, I find myself not thinking that the past itself was inherently better, but instead that had I done something different — if I could have magically had then the knowledge I have now — that I might perhaps have been able to end up in a better place now.