Editorial frustration
Oct. 23rd, 2013 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blatherskiteMany of the authors we editors work with aren't very good writers. That's to be expected; if they were great authors, they wouldn't come to us for help and we'd have to look for honest work. The problem is worse for authors who are writing in their second or third language; few people ever fully master their own language, and fewer still acquire any significant degree of skill in another language.
The problem is that we often forget that what seems like sloppy or poor writing is not a sign of stupidity; it's a sign that the author is doing something they're not particularly good at because it's not their primary focus. For scientists, the focus is science, not writing, and most scientists dislike writing intensely; it's tedious, frustrating work that takes them away from what they really want to be doing (i.e., research or teaching). When we forget this, we lose empathy for the author and start to feel frustration -- or even begin to feel that they're trying to make us suffer the same way they're being made to suffer by being forced to write and publish papers. The more deadlines we're facing and the more stress we're under, whether at home or at work, the easier it is to fall into that mindset.
We must learn to resist that trap and remind ourselves that we're here as the author's ally, not as their relentless and vicious critic. They have enough critics in their life, particularly if they have to publish in peer-reviewed journals.
Although it's fine to share our frustrations with a spouse, a friend, or editorial colleagues -- privately, of course, since these words must never appear anywhere that an author could ever see them -- it's highly inappropriate to let our frustration show in the comments we provide in an edited manuscript. Authors will get the point that they're not good writers in direct proportion to the quantity of corrections we make in the manuscript: gouts of red ink send a crystal-clear message that "your writing sucks". We should never rub salt in that wound by making this explicit via cranky, insulting, or unsympathetic comments. Comments must be dispassionate at worst, and should be supportive and sympathetic and encouraging whenever possible. It's almost like a Dr. Jekyll (comments) versus Mr. Hyde (the edits) thing, or maybe like a good cop/bad cop thing.
(On a side note, I've occasionally had the privilege of writing a manuscript for Avon Murphy, who is the editor's editor. No matter how trenchant his comments, and how much work they've made me do, Avon has never made me feel bad about myself or my writing. Despite some of the egregious blunders I've made in early drafts of a manuscript and some of the whiny crankiness I've occasionally asked him to endure while working with a piratical publisher, he's provided an ongoing lesson in tact and kindness that I hope someday to be able to emulate. I'm told by a colleague who knows him well that you REALLY don't want to get Avon mad at you, but you'd never know it from his editorial personality.)
Apart from my philosophy that, all else being equal, the most enjoyable and effective author-editor relationships are friendly, mutually respectful, and supportive, it's important to remember that if you offend an author or make working with you an unpleasantly abrasive experience, they'll take their marbles elsewhere. That's probably doubly true with Asian authors, who tend to be more sensitive about perceived slights.
Editor, edit thyself!
The problem is that we often forget that what seems like sloppy or poor writing is not a sign of stupidity; it's a sign that the author is doing something they're not particularly good at because it's not their primary focus. For scientists, the focus is science, not writing, and most scientists dislike writing intensely; it's tedious, frustrating work that takes them away from what they really want to be doing (i.e., research or teaching). When we forget this, we lose empathy for the author and start to feel frustration -- or even begin to feel that they're trying to make us suffer the same way they're being made to suffer by being forced to write and publish papers. The more deadlines we're facing and the more stress we're under, whether at home or at work, the easier it is to fall into that mindset.
We must learn to resist that trap and remind ourselves that we're here as the author's ally, not as their relentless and vicious critic. They have enough critics in their life, particularly if they have to publish in peer-reviewed journals.
Although it's fine to share our frustrations with a spouse, a friend, or editorial colleagues -- privately, of course, since these words must never appear anywhere that an author could ever see them -- it's highly inappropriate to let our frustration show in the comments we provide in an edited manuscript. Authors will get the point that they're not good writers in direct proportion to the quantity of corrections we make in the manuscript: gouts of red ink send a crystal-clear message that "your writing sucks". We should never rub salt in that wound by making this explicit via cranky, insulting, or unsympathetic comments. Comments must be dispassionate at worst, and should be supportive and sympathetic and encouraging whenever possible. It's almost like a Dr. Jekyll (comments) versus Mr. Hyde (the edits) thing, or maybe like a good cop/bad cop thing.
(On a side note, I've occasionally had the privilege of writing a manuscript for Avon Murphy, who is the editor's editor. No matter how trenchant his comments, and how much work they've made me do, Avon has never made me feel bad about myself or my writing. Despite some of the egregious blunders I've made in early drafts of a manuscript and some of the whiny crankiness I've occasionally asked him to endure while working with a piratical publisher, he's provided an ongoing lesson in tact and kindness that I hope someday to be able to emulate. I'm told by a colleague who knows him well that you REALLY don't want to get Avon mad at you, but you'd never know it from his editorial personality.)
Apart from my philosophy that, all else being equal, the most enjoyable and effective author-editor relationships are friendly, mutually respectful, and supportive, it's important to remember that if you offend an author or make working with you an unpleasantly abrasive experience, they'll take their marbles elsewhere. That's probably doubly true with Asian authors, who tend to be more sensitive about perceived slights.
Editor, edit thyself!