The Moulin Rouge Guide to Editing

As my college roommate knows better than anyone, Moulin Rouge is my go-to movie for stressful times. I’ve watched it so often that I’ve actually had to replaced my original copy because it stopped working. So, what meaningful editorial lessons have I drawn from watching this absinth-driven extravaganza of pop culture time and time again?

"I don’t even know if I am a true Bohemian revolutionary."

Sometimes we get caught up in defining an ideal instead of just living it. What Christian’s companions point out to him is that he does have the heart of a revolutionary writer even if his experiences are limited.

While I don’t believe the myth we tell children about having enough heart being all it takes to succeed at something, heart does matter. Sometimes it matters enough to push us towards actually taking that first step, like starting a rough draft of a novel.

"A kiss on the hand can be quite continental (but diamonds are a girl's best friend)."

By no means are my editorial efforts getting me rich at the moment. If they were, I wouldn’t be in journalism and pro bono editing.

But allow me to make two points to writers here – compliment your editor, when appropriate and sincere (and you’re poor). And when you can, pay her! That could be in cheap wine or a round of bowling that you secretly use for a character brainstorm session, whatever.

Point is, if you have a good editor, recognize him in whatever way you can since you’ll want to keep him around.

"If I’m to invest, I’ll need to know the story."

The Duke puts the creative pressure on Christian and his crew to generate a story on the spot. While musicals have a sense of creative synchronization real life can never offer (damn!), there’s still a valid point here.

Not every writer thrives under pressure, but sometimes a writer needs a push. Editors can serve as that pressure for them to simply shut up and write already!

"You’re free to leave me but just don’t deceive me."

An editor is only worth her salt if she’s honest. Pages full of nothing but glowing commentary simply don’t do much to make writing stronger.

If you want your edits to be valuable, they need to be honest. Period.

If a writer can’t appreciate accurate truthfulness, both good and bad, the relationship probably isn’t going anywhere for either of you. Maybe you can stay friends?

"The show must go on."

People love to idealize the writing world. Oh how artsy! Oh how creative! Oh you’re starving for your craft! Whatever. Fact is, it’s not always easy to keep pushing forward in the face of your editorial enemies.

Even worse – editors rarely get the glittery acclaim that successful writers do. Editors must keep in mind not only potential readers but also occasionally obstinate writers.

But hey, at least you won’t have to try to trick the man you love into thinking you used him then die of tuberculosis in front of all your friends.

In many ways, I’m perfectly content to keep 19^th century Paris restricted to the imagination of Baz Luhrmann. Still, I hope these musical tidbits will encourage you to be a better editor and/or writer and not just left watching Moulin Rouge… like I am right now.

Good Intentions Pave the Road to Good Writing

As a journalist, most of the feedback I get is negative. The last crime article I wrote had 26 contentious comments, the last of which claimed that I loved to humiliate people and their families. Awesome. People absolutely love to criticize news writing – from copy errors to perspective-based thrashings, there’s always something wrong in some people’s eyes.

While the sea of critical commentary can make me want to first, punch someone and second, quit writing, there really are reasons to keep at it. Really.

In my last post, I covered five reasons not to write, and these are true grounds for criticism from readers. But here are some solid reasons in favor of publishing writing, whether that’s in journalism or literature:

• It will help someone make a decision. It’s election season and believe me, I’m tired of talking to politicians. Sometimes I just set the handset down and let them ramble on about their endorsements to my desk calendar.

Still, I write articles about political candidates because someone needs to take the time to ask the right questions to help citizens understand their choices better, especially in small local elections. Sure, some people will go to the polls and simply straight party vote. But I’ve not done my due diligence if I haven’t used the power I have as a reporter to talk to candidates one on one and make that knowledge available to others.

• If not me, then who? (accountability) In journalism, this can be coupled with the reason above. While I’m not a fan of journalist always seeking out corruption with quick-to-bite watchdog enthusiasm, there is something to be said for journalism as one of the few remaining forms of public accountability in a world overloaded with manipulated information.

This is dangerous territory for writing with an agenda and looking for the information that backs the conclusion you want. Still, it’s worth working to do well.

• Because someone needs to hear this story. Do you have special knowledge of a subject that could benefit others? Do you have a story to tell that’s uniquely yours but will resonate with others? These are reasons to speak up – to share your story gifts.

What good is it to have an amazing story if there’s no one around to receive it? I mean, you could sit in your room telling it to your dog, but keep in mind that he’s the same one who wags his tail whether you call him “sweetheart” or “dumb shit,” as long as you say it in a happy tone.

Drag yourself away from the awesomely retro typewriter and remember that your words will in end up in the world. With people.

• Because someone needs this story told. Similar to the reason above, but not from the receiving end of story telling.

Writers can provide a voice to those that cannot voice it themselves. There’s real value in processing our lives through telling stories; if there wasn’t, story telling would be simple entertainment. Any lit-snob knows that there’s more to good writing than that.

Everyone has a story, though some might me more immediately obvious than others. Hell, some are simply better than others. It’s a writer’s responsibility to find those stories, capture that voice, and bring it into the world in a meaningful way. Writers should make the world richer.

• To leave a legacy. Now, this is a tricky one because I don’t mean in the feed-your-ego-by-becoming-immortal kind of way. Leaving a legacy can mean a few different things.

My grandfather, for example, wrote a small book of his life stories to share with his family members. I read stories about his childhood that helped round him out as a complete person to me as a grandchild. He also had the chance to pass on some “words of wisdom” to us, and it helped him validate his life in some ways.

There’s also the idea of leaving a writing legacy. Sylvia Plath, for instance, wrote a lot of poetry and prose for publication, but she also kept fantastic journals that were published posthumously. She used these for personal reflection as well as writing practice. To another writer, these are fascinating to read because it shows the shaping of her style.

Of course, all these reasons are under the assumption that your writing is solid, valuable content. Self-indulgent or simply poor writing is a waste of everybody’s time, so just don’t do it.

Or do it, then give it to someone like me to help make it suck less. That’s what I’m here for.

Five Reasons Not to Write

In “The Ethics of Whoring Your Storytelling,” Men with Pens founder James Chartrand writes:

You decide where to draw the line. You decide what’s acceptable and what isn’t. And being mature adults, you’d think no one needs to talk about the ethics of storytelling. But when we start to stoop to these lengths to sell… Well, I think it does need to be discussed.

You see, I believe that when we have storytelling skills and the power to influence others, we have an unspoken obligation to use this power carefully. I believe we need to have respect for others and consider the potential consequences of telling our stories and using them to pitch sales.

I don’t believe every story should be told – or sold.

As a reporter, I find myself debating the story-worthiness of ideas and details almost daily. Should I say that this person charged with a DWI lost her brother to a DWI accident? Do I include that the man charged with sexual assault of a child knew her as a leader in their church? Do I repeat that this intoxicated senior wasn’t wearing pants when the cop asked her to get out of the car? (Yes, these have all come up, even pantsless granny. I think she had some weed, too.)

Our newspaper staff regularly deliberates what should become public and what should remain private.

Even when dealing with public records, you still have to ask yourself whether elements of a story should be told. This is a matter of both effectively and ethically telling a story.

Sensational stories sell papers. But sensationalized writing is not ethical.

If the bottom line of our editorial judgment is selling more papers, our editorial bottom line has sunk far too low.

In the newsroom, we try to tell the right stories by asking ourselves: why is this news? The answer ought to be because the story brings needed information to the community.

All writers should ask themselves: why does this story need to be told?

The answer will reveal a lot towards deciding whether the story should be told in public. (I think private writing is fair game for any story, but that’s a different blog entry).

Here are some of the worst reasons I’ve heard as justification for publishing stories:

• We need to fill the space (In the newsroom this is often paired with, it’s better than pulling from the wire.)

We once ran a religion column that spiritually denounced parents of AD/HD children. The author, a local man known for writing either incomprehensible or intolerant columns, essentially said that biblical parents wouldn’t have those problems. I felt that the column would not facilitate intelligent discussion but simply spread bigotry.

Regardless of whether I was right or wrong, I feel strongly that justifying the printing of that piece merely because we couldn’t fill the space was clearly wrong. There needs to be a better reason.

• Inaccuracy is the columnist’s problem, not ours. On more than one occasion, the paper I work for has run columns with facts without sources. We would never cite these facts without a reference in our front-page material, but my editor has justified this by stating that it’s a column. If people have a problem with it, it’s the columnist’s fault, not the paper’s.

To me, this is beside the point: we are still publishing that writing under our reputation. Unless it’s next to cute cartoons on the editorial page, people should be able to trust what they read in our paper across the board.

Also, readers do not innately recognize different kinds of writing like we do. Opinion, editorial, and any column should be clearly labeled as such. Period.

• I need the money. Writers sell their work. It’s part of the starving-writer complex we’re all trying to solve (right?). While writing for income may be legitimate, it’s not the real reason that a story needs to be told.

• I want to be published. Writers are dying for validation – many of us struggle to believe in our writing if it’s not being published. Humans inherently crave recognition by our peers. But, like the money issue, this is not a reason a story needs to be told. It comes from the writer’s ego, not the piece itself.

• Because I’m tired of working on it. The writing process can feel never-ending, especially if you realize the value of rewriting. But it’s far better to put your work aside to marinate while you refocus elsewhere instead of haphazardly sending it off into the publishing abyss. This is your baby; don’t leave it on someone’s doorstep when you get fed up.

Just like there are poor reasons for bringing a child into the world, there are poor reasons for bringing writing into the world.

The trend in poor reasoning for writing is that they are self-serving justifications.

While authorship matters, solid writing ultimately should be able to stand on its own – without an ego to back it.

More optimistically, there are real reasons to present stories publicly. Look for the next post for good reasons for publishing work.