Zen and the Art of Editing

Editing is not always about spelling and punctuation. Sometimes an editor has to get inside a writer’s mind, wade into a sentence or paragraph whose true meaning is cleverly hidden within phrases and structures that make absolutely no sense. The editor enters the murky world of creative spelling, misplaced modifiers, horrifying accidents of punctuation. Trust me, it’s not a pretty place.

How should one approach such a daunting task? First, let the self slip into the background. Your ego has no business entering someone else’s writing. Gently feel the writer (minds out of the gutter, please) through his or her words. Allow the true meaning to reveal itself. When the meaning becomes clear, cup it gently within your hands and bring it to the surface for the rest of the world to see.

That’s one method. Then there’s the method most of us actually use, which goes something like this:

Leaning forward, rest elbow on desk and place forehead in palm of hand. Read nonsensical sentence again. And again, only backwards this time. Sigh loudly. Proclaim, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Leave office to get a fourth cup of coffee. For especially confusing sentences, have a jelly donut too.

Okay, despite their essential yumminess, jelly donuts are not actual editorial tools. (Please note that coffee is an actual editorial tool, at least in my office.) Being able to temporarily slip out of yourself and “become the writer” is an essential editorial skill, though. Good editors will understand what a writer means even when that writer’s words say something completely different. Then the good editor will rephrase the words to say exactly what the writer meant to say in exactly the way the writer would have said it if the writer had not been so befuddled by his/her initial thought. Some writers will be amazed by this editorial skill. Others will take it for granted. A small minority will be offended that the arrogant, dimwitted editor has made their writing make sense. The nerve!

One thing is clear to me: Egos have no place in editing. It can be tempting to rearrange or change a writer’s words just because you think you could have written that story or paper or poem so much better than the writer did. But I think the editor’s job is to help the writer say exactly what the writer meant to say in exactly the way the writer meant to say it. Sometimes this is a tough job that involves a certain amount of sighing and swearing. Often, though, it’s what you refrain from, what you leave behind when you sit down to work, that’s most important. No imposition of self. No editorial ego. That’s Zen and the art of editing.