Why the Editor’s Red Pen Means Love

Today I’m linking up with my friend Kelly at Mrs. Disciple to talk about the value of a good editor. For the writer’s perspective, check out Kelly’s post here. 

I have been wielding a “red pen” for about as long as I can remember. Starting in middle school, I edited my friends’ English papers. In high school, I was editor of the student newspaper, so I edited all the articles before they went to print. In college, I edited the work of classmates and kids I tutored. During my ten years as an English and journalism teacher, I edited the work of hundreds of students. Now, I edit books at a publishing house and blog posts for The Glorious Table. I can barely remember a time when I wasn’t editing something.

My reception as an editor has changed as what I edit has changed. In previous years, my editing meant better grades for peers and students, so they sought it out eagerly. They were grateful. Editing books, too, has been deeply rewarding. The authors I work with desire more than anything for their messages to be as well-written as possible so that readers receive those messages well. Most of them are not strangers to being edited. Good, clean writing means good reviews, and good reviews help sell books.

Then I began editing bloggers, and I found myself facing a more mixed reception. I will never forget the first time I saw a post on social media by one of these bloggers, talking about how being edited felt like being shredded into little pieces, like the red “ink” of the tracked changes in her Word doc felt like her own blood being spilled. She confessed to crying for hours, to feeling like she ought to give up writing, to being anxious and deflated and beaten up–all because her words had been edited.

I was stunned when I realized she was writing about me, about the edits I had made to a post and sent to her the day before. I confess, I felt grossly misunderstood and devalued. It took me a day or two to let those feelings roll off and go on their way.

I do understand that being edited isn’t always easy, especially if you’re not accustomed to it. I am a writer myself, so I get this at a core level. To a writer, who is an artist, words are sacred. They are the product of the [sometimes painful] creative birthing process. They are frequently tied to deeply personal experience and intense emotion. It isn’t easy to have someone else examine, touch, and alter what you have produced.

Discomfort with being edited can also be a matter of pride. We all, I’m sure, would like to think we can write perfectly well on our own. But just as the dancer, the actor, the painter, the sculptor, and the athlete all have someone guiding them, instructing them, helping them hone their efforts–a mentor or teacher or director or coach or agent–writers have editors. For that matter, just because I am an editor doesn’t mean I don’t need my writing edited–quite the contrary, in fact! And I am immensely grateful when someone is willing to look over my work with a critical eye, because I know how much effort is involved in editing.

With this in mind, I want to say a few things about who editors are and why the red ink of their pens actually means love.

Editors love words. On top of that, they love words that work well together. They want things to be said in the best way possible. They love it when words sing on the page. The deepest desire of an editor is to make a message clear and understandable, as well as beautiful. An editor is someone whose work is grounded in a love of language.

Editors love to make writing shine. An editor wants only to improve what is written, so no one can mistake the writer’s meaning. An editor is really a protector, like a knight in shining armor. An editor is polishing the silver, weeding the garden, tuning the instrument. Without a good editor, writers are in danger of being misunderstood. An editor’s only goal is the success of the writing; it is never to cut down the writer.

Editors offer an objective eye. As a writer, I know that I am usually  too close to my work to see its faults. A good editor can point out inconsistencies, word choices that are slightly off, and other things I tend to miss. This allows me the opportunity to achieve a better end result (which, of course, I want).

Editing is hard work. Make no mistake–if someone is editing your work (especially for free), it is a gift, a selfless act of service. Editing is detail work that requires intense focus. You cannot edit and watch Game of Thrones at the same time. You cannot edit and stir the soup. You cannot edit and play Candy Land. Editing requires everything else to be set aside–everything. Every ounce of effort must be on the page or the editing suffers. It is frequently slow and laborious. It often requires a dictionary and a style manual to be at hand.

This is my plea, friends: if you have an editor, cultivate a grateful spirit rather than a threatened spirit. Wrestle any feelings of self-doubt or injury to the ground. You have been given a precious gift, a gift of love, in your editor’s red pen.