The Importance of Being Edited
We have been lucky in our publishing career: we’re allowed to write pretty much whatever we want, and on the few occasions that we weren’t 100 percent enthusiastic about the work assigned to us, we didn’t exactly suffer, either. However, there is one thing about our life in publishing that’s bothered us (and it’s not the fact that the big bucks have been elusive). We’ve never really been edited.
Copy-edited, yes. Proofread, yes. But no one has ever given us a clear and straightforward assessment of our work: its strengths and weaknesses, intellectual failings, emotional bullshit, lines that must be crossed, ambitions we might harbor. No one who knows us well and whom we trust calls us out when we settle for being amusing when we could do more. (Reviewers don’t count; speaking as a reviewer, we don’t necessarily have your best interests in mind.)
Having seen many movies in which the editors of the great New York publishing houses take their writers to four-martini lunches to talk about their manuscripts, having read about Scott Fitzgerald and Maxwell Perkins, J.D. Salinger and William Shawn, and all the great writer-editor tandems, we’ve always wanted the guidance of a mentor-editor. Maybe if we’d majored in Creative Writing instead of Comparative Lit, or attended more writing workshops, or enrolled in an MFA program, we might’ve found that editor.
We joined exactly one workshop, the UP Summer Writers’ Workshop, during our sophomore year in college. It was wonderful: we met writers, talked about our work processes, felt less alone in the lit universe. But the discussion of our story went like this: “Oh, it’s the J.D. Salinger fan. Hilarious! Next.” Sure, there were a couple of angry Marxists muttering on the sidelines, but they never said anything openly.
Since then we’ve had some wonderful publishers, but we’ve been hoping for a Gordon Lish to come along and slash and burn our drafts for our own good. This is not humility—our ego is vast and swallows planets (like Galactus). But every time we have a new book out, we can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing something vital.
See how Gordon Lish edited Raymond Carver’s What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
Some weeks ago, while preparing the manuscript for our new collection of short stories, it occurred to us that we know someone who is a brilliant editor and a great friend. She also happens to be the most well-read person we know. So we asked Tina Cuyugan (editor of Forbidden Fruit, former World News editor of Today) to edit our book.
The other day Tina sent us her edits and comments—which stories were strong, which parts were structurally unsound, what could be left out, and so on. It was as if we had been scribbling away in a dark and airless tower, and someone opened a window. And not for us to leap out of. For the first time, we got a proper appraisal of our work. Why didn’t we do this sooner? Now we know what we can do. Suddenly, we feel like a writer.
Every writer needs an editor. No exceptions.
Get the e-book at our online store, opening in late November.
Answers to questions you might be asking, unless you wandered onto this site purely by accident >>>
October 24th, 2013 at 14:20
Will your online store be accepting credit cards?
For the past six years, my work has always been under constant review. True, I’ve become very detail-oriented and very disciplined in producing output but I’m not sure if I’ve improved in terms of writing ability. I guess I will find out when I’m finally given free reign.
October 24th, 2013 at 15:28
Even the most celebrated writers need good editors. Reading about the writing process—from the actual writing of the stories, then the editing, and ultimately the publication—makes me realize that one must be made of tough stuff to be a writer. So, onward, Ms. JZ! I’m looking forward to reading your next collection!
I’m glad the short story is gaining popularity these days, with Alice Munro winning the Nobel, Lydia Davis winning the Man Booker Prize, and other popular writers publishing their own shorts. Personally the short story is my favorite literary form, better than novels or poems, even. It’s also something a lot of Filipino writers excel in—the Scent of Apples by Bienvenido Santos has remained a favorite.
October 24th, 2013 at 19:47
the chronicler of boredom: Yes, credit cards, debit cards, ATM cards (your bank account gets debited), GCash, Paypal, and all other forms of online payment.
Business and legal writing have more strictures than fiction, and their goal is clarity rather than the aesthetic virtues.
October 25th, 2013 at 08:36
This is inspiring. Tells all of us that we can never be too self- satisfied and always aspire to be better :)
October 27th, 2013 at 21:00
THIS. A thousand times yes and exactly how I feel a lot of times.
October 28th, 2013 at 02:58
Your Grace, there’s one writer I know that the editors don’t want to tango with or let do his stuff altogether, ALAN MOORE. Karen Berger of Vertigo then let him do his stuffs, even Lein Wein did very, very minor role in his Watchmen. Only Paul Levitz (as DC head then) had the balls to edit Alan Moore in his League of Extraordinary Gentlemen years (Wildstorm, where Moore was working then, was bought by DC but he was given editorial non-intervention as promised by his then “boss” Jim Lee). Of course, Moore got angry with Paul’s intervention and soon after his LOEG and other fantastic Wildstorm titles (Promethea, Top Ten, and Tom Strong–excellent pieces of literature), he left mainstream comics and Top Shelf, Avatar, and other indie-minded comics publishers offered him sanctuary, without any editorial constraints, Your Grace.
October 28th, 2013 at 03:03
Editing one’s work is actually hard work already…what more if editing for a journal or a very thick book. One must appreciate an editor’s task.
October 28th, 2013 at 05:55
The Lish edit above is brutal, but makes the story tighter and more focused. It’s good that you had an editor work on your new book. Maybe not too many professional editors in the country?