An Editor’s New Year’s Resolutions

1. I resolve to stop making my writers wait so damn long to get pagesback. I have work from months ago that I haven’t looked at yet and it’s going to either move on without me (sad for me) or be given up on (sad for the writer).
2. I resolve to buy more blue pens. It’s about small steps, right? I like to edit in the calming color of blue so that it stands out against the black ink without bringing up memories of slaughtered elementary school essays. When I go to edit, I struggle to find blue pens in my purse even though it’s a freaking Mary Poppins’s bag. Solution: buy more.
3. I resolve to blog consistently. Notice how I conveniently ignored that six week gap in writing with my last blog entry? Well, I got in a car accident and that just threw my consistency out the window while I tried to clean that up. But I resolve now to get back in my editorial groove.
4. I resolve to journal more consistently. Okay this is definitely on the personal side of these resolutions, but the reality is when I get my thoughts out in my own writing, it’s less like to get projected onto someone else’s. Plus, it just makes me happier. Happy editors are better than irritable ones, right?
5. I resolve to seek out new writers that want to work with me. I want to expand my experience by working with different kinds of writers and different kinds of writing. Specifically (maybe it’s sexist), I’d like to work with a woman since all my regular writers are men.

In typical fashion, I’ll belatedly raise my glass of the finest champagne a barely-more-than-minimum-wage salary can afford and toast to a better year. Don’t worry, I didn’t spill on any pages.

We’ve Got Spirit, How ‘Bout… Well, crap.

When I was little, I thought that cheerleaders were the people who didn’t make the team. Now, I've become one of them.

One of my writers called me last week for some encouragement about the direction of his novel. When you work almost single-mindedly on one project for more than six months, you can begin to question your creative vision.

So instead of being a coach or trainer, I put on my editorial short skirt and shook those pom poms. And let me tell you, I really hate pom poms.

Sometimes, your writers don’t need your grammatical two cents. They don’t need plot revision or character development suggestions.

They just need to be reassured that theirs is a project worth your time.

Maybe this is a little easier to accomplish for me since lots of my editing is done pro-bono. Typically, people don’t do things they don’t like for free if they have the option not to. So that alone helps my case for credibility.

Still, as an editor, it would be unfair to say I never doubt the end result of a work. Let’s be honest – even with solid writers, that first draft can be rough!

The trick is getting two people to mutually believe in a work enough to push each other through those moments of doubt. Part of that is really hoping you don’t have synchronized moments of doubt.

For the editor, a lot of giving encouragement happens on the page, but having actual spoken conversations with your writer is important as well. Use your words!

Hopefully your writer is open enough to initiate the discussion when one needs to be had. But not everyone is so ready to admit her problems out loud.

If you’re starting to see repeat problems in a manuscript – for example, lazy verbs – bring it up with your writer. It doesn’t have to be phrased as a criticism (“Really, buddy, could you work in one more helping verb?!”), but focus on where they’ve done it right and express your desire for more of that.

Often, a writer’s sense of overall doubt emerges from a specific problem in the text – a fact they may or not be aware of. If they express general frustration, get them to pinpoint what’s bothering them by working backwards to find the spark of the issue.

If they know what the problem is, brainstorm like a beast on how to solve it. Simply talking through an issue can be encouraging because it’s like writer’s therapy. The goal is to help them find the best resolution for themselves and their work.

Plus, creative collaboration is a really rewarding part of being involved in the writing process! (Being a cheerleader makes me use more exclamation points than normal).

Cheerleaders don’t shout cheers about what their team does wrong or where they’re weak. They completely focus on current confidence and future potential.

That isn’t always what editors should be doing; in fact, it’s probably not going to help your writer grow over time. It’s important to bring out the coach’s whistle and exercise some tough love. But sometimes, cheerleading is what’s needed most.

Besides, if they leave the field, where does that really leave you? On the sidelines holding those stupid pom poms wearing itchy bloomers.

I “Give a F*ck About the Oxford Comma”

Nothing sparks a good grammar debates like comma choices. Vanity Fair's Michael Hogan interviewed Columbia-educated band Vampire Weekend about their controversial (at least in punctuation circles) song Oxford Comma, which has the jarring opening line: “Who gives a fuck about an Oxford comma?” To which I say, "I do!"

While the song’s overall meaning has sparked lively, though authority devoid, debate, perhaps the most discussed line is that first one. Most sources come to the conclusion that the meaning is sometimes we get wrapped up in the details and miss the big picture. Point taken.

So why do I care? Why do I want to cry a little tear every time I have to delete an Oxford comma in my newspaper copy because it isn’t part of AP style? There are basically two sides of the debate: the use and the use-nots.

Oxford comma opponents argue that it’s stupid to care about the Oxford comma because as long as you get the gist of what’s being said, correct punctuation doesn’t matter. Other, more academically inclined non-Oxford comma users stress that reliance on the mark signifies a poorly constructed sentence. It also fails to give the reader much credit in the realm of logical, deductive reasoning.

The other side of the word nerd debate argues that the Oxford comma is important to provide clarity of meaning in the written word. Using it regularly provides consistency and specificity.

I think both lines of thought are right and here’s why: punctuation exists to facilitate a clearer understanding of the written word.

Punctuation makes up a major section of the writer’s toolbox to convey ideas. But it’s still simply a tool, not the end product.

If punctuation gets in the way of meaning, then by all means modify. But it lives to serve: its purpose is one of helpfulness, not hindrance.

One common example I found in the Oxford Comma debate was this dedicatory sentence: "I would like to thank my parents, Ayn Rand and God.”

Steadfast believers in the Oxford Comma argued that the lack of a second comma makes this sentence imply that the writer’s parents are Ayn Rand and God.

Non-Oxford Comma users point out that the notion is so ridiculous that readers will inevitably understand that it’s a three-person list.

That’s probably true, but that’s a laugh and a thought later – time wasted trying to figure out the writer’s meaning instead of doing something with that meaning (and losing come credibility in the mean time).

So I give a fuck about the Oxford Comma because I give a fuck about clarity and meaning. To me, using it most of the time seems the simplest, most foolproof way to avoid ambiguity. And that's clearly valuable.