Now, writers, don’t get all self-righteous. When a good editor is editing you, it’s for your own good and the good of your audience. But there are those few-and-far-between times when an editor needs to be edited. Hmm… I am thinking hard… Got it! It’s when an editor turns writer.
Writing takes a different set of skills and creativity than editing. Please don’t mistake what I am saying here. Editing at its best is almost like brain surgery. It takes a careful hand to make cuts and changes yet still leave the message and voice of the author intact. But when the shoe is on the other foot, the scalpel in another hand, even a good editor must come to terms with being edited.
Writing is a very intimate process. When writing, we can be so subjective and close to our work that many times we unconsciously overlook our own flaws. It’s like true love. We love our own work for what it is on the inside—its substance, its intention, and its potential. Even the most objective and skillful editor faces this when they are writing.
Have you ever read over something you wrote eleven times, backward and forward, up and down, and still someone else found typos, grammar issues, or nonsensical ramblings when they read it? It happens to me all the time.
When I was in college, I was a news writer for the student newspaper. I really enjoyed the chase of the story and all the information gathering. The thrill of finally finding my flow to write the articles was addicting. Then the whole process was maddening when I couldn’t find it. The first time I submitted a piece, I was horrified at how it had been “changed.” Some of you would probably choose the word edited, but at the time I didn’t see it that way at all. All I knew was it was not what I had written! I was offended that the news editor did not know that I was a writer who knew how to write and needed very little help with putting a good story together. So I took upon my arrogant self to tell them not to ever edit my pieces. “Leave my stories as is,” I told them. (I am getting sick of my own self, recounting this story.) The sad part about this whole thing is they actually listened to me and granted my insane request.
Then, after accumulating several stories (I don’t even know how they kept me on staff), I took my clippings and samples to a friend who wrote an editorial for the city Times paper. I asked him to read through my stories and tell me what he thought. He told me that my writing was stilted and did not follow the conventions of news writing (who, what, where, when, why, right out the gate; setting and other stuff later). My writing, he said, was more of a feature style, which was not what I was writing for. He was very careful and kind, but at the time I added him to the list of people who didn’t understand what a good writer I was. I was in my twenties and just knew I knew what I was doing. He actually preferred the story that had been edited.
Years later after becoming an editor myself, I realized that I needed that editor to edit me. Yes, I gathered all the information and told the story, but the news editor had her hand on the pulse of what her readers expected from her section of the newspaper. I am sure she had been coached and mentored by past editors and faculty about how the newspaper should be formatted, the house style, the type of articles it needed to include, and how to make what comes in from writers fit those parameters. What did I know just coming in on that scene?
As an editor now who dabbles in writing from time to time, I am so grateful that someone has had the patience to read through my work and make it better and its appeal broader to fit the needs and expectations of the intended audience. Now I just die to my writing and submit it up as an offering to whatever publication to be sacrificed in the most sufficient way. I just trust now that the way it ends up is the way it was supposed to reach the reader. (Of course, I also have trust in the editor too. I don’t want to leave that out.) I appreciate the fact that I need to be edited when I am not the editor but the writer.
Another thing I’ve come to realize is that I like editing much better than writing. Writers are incredible. The risks they take, the criticism they endure, the ideas they come up with, the creativity with which they communicate… When I became an editor, I found my true fit. I love helping writers say what they want to say in the best way possible to the largest audience available. I believe that my experiences in writing help me be a more empathetic and careful editor. Isn't it great how things in life line up to bring you to your destiny?
Have you ever found yourself in this place where you thought a little too highly of something you crafted only to realize later that you should have respected the very delicate editor-writer dynamic? Do tell.
Writing takes a different set of skills and creativity than editing. Please don’t mistake what I am saying here. Editing at its best is almost like brain surgery. It takes a careful hand to make cuts and changes yet still leave the message and voice of the author intact. But when the shoe is on the other foot, the scalpel in another hand, even a good editor must come to terms with being edited.
Writing is a very intimate process. When writing, we can be so subjective and close to our work that many times we unconsciously overlook our own flaws. It’s like true love. We love our own work for what it is on the inside—its substance, its intention, and its potential. Even the most objective and skillful editor faces this when they are writing.
Have you ever read over something you wrote eleven times, backward and forward, up and down, and still someone else found typos, grammar issues, or nonsensical ramblings when they read it? It happens to me all the time.
When I was in college, I was a news writer for the student newspaper. I really enjoyed the chase of the story and all the information gathering. The thrill of finally finding my flow to write the articles was addicting. Then the whole process was maddening when I couldn’t find it. The first time I submitted a piece, I was horrified at how it had been “changed.” Some of you would probably choose the word edited, but at the time I didn’t see it that way at all. All I knew was it was not what I had written! I was offended that the news editor did not know that I was a writer who knew how to write and needed very little help with putting a good story together. So I took upon my arrogant self to tell them not to ever edit my pieces. “Leave my stories as is,” I told them. (I am getting sick of my own self, recounting this story.) The sad part about this whole thing is they actually listened to me and granted my insane request.
Then, after accumulating several stories (I don’t even know how they kept me on staff), I took my clippings and samples to a friend who wrote an editorial for the city Times paper. I asked him to read through my stories and tell me what he thought. He told me that my writing was stilted and did not follow the conventions of news writing (who, what, where, when, why, right out the gate; setting and other stuff later). My writing, he said, was more of a feature style, which was not what I was writing for. He was very careful and kind, but at the time I added him to the list of people who didn’t understand what a good writer I was. I was in my twenties and just knew I knew what I was doing. He actually preferred the story that had been edited.
Years later after becoming an editor myself, I realized that I needed that editor to edit me. Yes, I gathered all the information and told the story, but the news editor had her hand on the pulse of what her readers expected from her section of the newspaper. I am sure she had been coached and mentored by past editors and faculty about how the newspaper should be formatted, the house style, the type of articles it needed to include, and how to make what comes in from writers fit those parameters. What did I know just coming in on that scene?
As an editor now who dabbles in writing from time to time, I am so grateful that someone has had the patience to read through my work and make it better and its appeal broader to fit the needs and expectations of the intended audience. Now I just die to my writing and submit it up as an offering to whatever publication to be sacrificed in the most sufficient way. I just trust now that the way it ends up is the way it was supposed to reach the reader. (Of course, I also have trust in the editor too. I don’t want to leave that out.) I appreciate the fact that I need to be edited when I am not the editor but the writer.
Another thing I’ve come to realize is that I like editing much better than writing. Writers are incredible. The risks they take, the criticism they endure, the ideas they come up with, the creativity with which they communicate… When I became an editor, I found my true fit. I love helping writers say what they want to say in the best way possible to the largest audience available. I believe that my experiences in writing help me be a more empathetic and careful editor. Isn't it great how things in life line up to bring you to your destiny?
Have you ever found yourself in this place where you thought a little too highly of something you crafted only to realize later that you should have respected the very delicate editor-writer dynamic? Do tell.