Five Ways to Keep that Editorial Fire Burning: A Love Letter

Dear writer,

I want you know that I’m writing this because I care about us. I believe in us. We were meant to be together. I know we’ve had our ups and downs, like those late nights debating whether to use a semi-colon or a period (the period was correct, by the way), but I know we can work this out.

In the spirit of our love, I’ve compiled a few concrete ways to deepen our relationship. I’ll even use I-statements because I’m not looking to start a fight; I care that much (that’s how you use a semi-colon, dear).

• I wish that you would read your writing before you give it to me. I feel like a semantics slave when I can’t focus on the broad strokes of your magnificent work because I can’t make it through a paragraph without fixing five comma splices. • I would feel very happy if you would experiment with sentence structure with exercises like those found in The Art of Styling Sentences. If I have to read one more sentence starting with a gerund, I just might lose it. • For the sake of the eyes that you gaze into with rhetorical love and admiration, double-space and don’t use Courier or Comic Sans unless you’d like me to just give up from the beginning. • Communication is the key to any successful relationship. If you disagree with my revisions or suggestions, let’s talk this thing out and not go to bed angry at each other. I feel useless if you simply ignore a comment without explanation, as if I wasn’t even there. • I need encouragement too. You know I’m here to love and support you in all that you do with our beloved English language, but please don’t forget that despite the strength of my editorial judgment, I’m a person with feelings. Cherish me.

I know that we can make it through these challenges. Just remember that when it comes to put pen to paper, it’s not me, it’s you.

Love,

Your editor

Proofreading v. Copyediting v. Editing

When I went looking for other blogs out there about editing, I discovered two things: First, writers love to write about writing and second, editors love to write about copyediting. I wanted to take this opportunity to clarify what this blog is about, despite my beautiful though visceral analogy before.

Proofreading is what I do at about 5 p.m. every day: I read proof print outs of the newspaper looking for glaring errors, like my co-worker’s tendency to mistake “it’s” for “its.” That’s not what this blog is about… besides when I make those errors myself. Which I will, but will try to fix pronto to minimize my embarrassment.

Copyediting is what I do on weekends for a local publisher, who sends me manuscripts that need doctoring in the way of grammar and punctuation. This is the kind of thing that will evoke 20 minute debates on sentence structure from those of us nerdy enough to care.

Most of the blogs I came across fall into the copyediting category, with things like daily reminders and tips on grammar and punctuation. I care about those things, but quite frankly, I could read a stylebook for that any day.

Editing incorporates the style concerns of the two previous categories, but encompasses much more than that. Editing is done in a relationship with a writer.

Let me be specific: One of my writers, Jason Schaefer, is currently working on a romantic dark comedy. Before he sat down to write, we went to maybe half a dozen smoky bars and had long conversations about his characters. One centered entirely on what they carried in their purses. At the end of those two weeks or so, my laundry smelled wretched, but I had a taste for what his world would look like on paper.

Those are the kind of conversations I live for as an editor. That’s what got me tied to his project. That’s why I stay up late reading cramped, typewritten pages.

Editing is not about correcting what’s wrong. It’s about finding what’s right and nourishing that.

Too many writers have a solid dislike for editors as a whole, and I think it’s because all they see is a woefully bleeding page returned from an editor’s hand.

When I edit, I’m not afraid to point out any instance of laziness or triteness. My writers are better than that. At the same time, I highlight where they’ve gone right: a good word pairing or a nice section of believable dialogue.

I think when you’ve read enough poor writing, and I’ve read my fair share, you’re more prone to edit this way. That or I’m just some weird version of a cynical optimist.