Editors Gonna Edit

I’m having a hard time saying this: I don’t really like being edited. (I also have a hard time saying the word “edited.”)

And I’m an editor.

Everyone thinks her words are just right, brilliant even, that there’s no better way to say what she’s trying to say, that she needs those 400 extra words she gave you because they’re that good. But, as I recently was reminded, they’re not. 

I knew the piece I’d written was too long and needed some trimming, and tweaking. But when I got back some suggestions and queries, I turned my nose up. “I do this for a living,” I told myself. “I should know how to handle this.” But I didn’t. Not right away, anyway.

I let it digest for a little while, chewed on the feedback during my morning run, and eventually came back to it with renewed perspective. I was able to take in the overall spirit of the comments, assess what they were trying to accomplish, and made some changes. Everyone was happy.

I just needed to step back and let what I presume was my bruised ego getting in the way reroute itself back to reality.

No matter which side of the editorial fence you’re on—editor or edited—and no matter how thick your skin is, I think the same general guidelines can apply.

1. Don’t reinvent the wheel.

When I approach an article, I always look at it with the eye to first work with what’s there.

Early in my career, I had an editor sit down with me to go through an article I’d edited. She had a marked-up copy of the manuscript and an outline that she’d prepared. She not only wanted to completely restructure the piece, she wanted to essentially rewrite the way she would have written it had it been her assignment. I watched and listened as she carefully took the piece apart and put it back together again. And I remember thinking, “This doesn’t seem right.”

Print out the document without a pen in hand and read through it once without marking it up or making any notes. Then, take a break.

Come back and pick up a pen and read through it again. Make note of whatever questions come to mind when you read through. What’s missing? Are the concepts explained fully enough so that any reader would be able to get a good grasp? Are there good points that could be further expanded?

Read through any queries carefully and try to see how they fit into the larger picture.

2. Take a hike.

Whether or not you’re feeling frustrated or confused, walk away. But you’re on deadline, I know, and this needs to get done ASAP. Trust me, just make it a 10-minute break. Check your e-mail or something.

3. To the letter.

Review the assignment letter. Does it match up? Did the writer do what you asked him to do? Did you do what the editor asked you to do? Are the queries there because there’s not enough essential information? Or are they asking for information that takes the piece beyond the initial scope? Think about how they fit in with the overall context of the article.

If the article doesn’t at all match up with what was assigned, have a conversation about it. I appreciate how sometimes one great anecdote can set a writer down a different path, but if the piece ultimately isn’t doing what it needs to do, it might need to be redone. Make sure to offer clear guidance and solid, focused suggestions for how to revise.

4. Let it rest.

I know that by the time I’m finished reworking something, I just want it off my desk and into the hands of someone else so I can consider it done and checked off my to-do list. But resist the urge to just hit “send.” Once you’ve reworked the piece and incorporated the necessary edits or queries, read through the piece one more time.

Let the revised piece rest a little bit—the same way you do with a delicious piece of meat before serving—and then give it a read. Give the juices time to settle.

Then, let the world, your editor, yourself feast on the masterpiece that it surely is.