EDITOR! EDITOR!

by James Lincoln Warren

I am fond of claiming that a writer without an editor is like a criminal defendant without a defense attorney. If you don’t have one, you’re probably going down. And along the same lines, the writer who steadfastly insists on being the sole editor of his own work has a fool for a client.1

The other day, John wrote about biographical blurbs. My standard 100-word bio provided for public appearances includes the following phrase:

He is the founder and editor of “Criminal Brief: The Mystery Short Story Web Log Project” . . .

This is a slight stretch, because although it was I who came up with the original idea, Rob Lopresti had as much to do with its nascence as I did. I’ve written before that the first three writers lined up for the project were Rob, Melodie Johnson Howe, and me, but when Leigh and Deborah and Steve swelled the ranks—John came a few scant months later, as relief for Angela Zeman, who was herself a late addition—the task of putting it all together fell to me, so I did feel somewhat justified in assuming the cognomen of editor. Getting CB up and running followed a rather steep learning curve, and some of the writers were concerned that their knowledge of computers was inadequate to post their columns, so I told them simply to send their offerings to me each week and I would take care of the technical end of things. After the site had been up for several weeks, I offered each writer the opportunity to post their own columns instead of sending them to me to post, which actually turned out to be a rather simple procedure, but everybody except Leigh, who as most of you probably know is an absolute whiz at the web, chose to keep me in the loop. So in a strictly informal sense, I was elected editor anyway.

It hath been said that the best way to learn a subject is to teach it to someone else. Well, I can absolutely attest that the best way to learn how to effectively edit one’s own writing is to edit other folks’ work. Nothing I can think of will better stimulate a keen critical eye to one’s own scribblings. This is because while an editor has to implicitly believe in his own judgment, he also has to maintain a strictly ego-free disinterest. Being a good editor means straddling a razor’s edge dividing an almost supreme self-confidence and and an utterly selfless humility. The confidence comes in firmly trusting one’s own inclinations and decisions, and the selflessness comes in making sure that the editor’s touch remains forever invisible and never, ever defaces the author’s work. An editor is always the midwife and never the mother.

Not that editing CB is anything but a joy, the writers here being so exceptional and each having such a distinct voice. I don’t really do much—I correct for diction, style (in a strictly technical sense, i.e. punctuation, parallelism, visual appearance, etc.), grammar, and in rare instances, clarity, and most of the time the submissions require no intervention whatsoever. When I do apply changes, I try very hard to keep the authorial voice consistent with the rest of the piece, and except for really minor changes, such as correcting misspellings, I always seek the author’s permission to make any alterations.

In addition, I usually provide the illustrations, making new ones if I don’t find anything suitable and readily available on the web, usually sending them to the author before publishing the column for approval. Steve frequently provides his own, and Rob and Deborah occasionally provide images for particular pieces. John always sends me a very short list of illustration suggestions, leaving the final choice to me, but I will still get his imprimatur before posting any particular installment of Mississippi Mud. Leigh, as I mentioned, is completely autonomous, which explains why his columns usually look a little different than the others and have more web features and illustrations per column.

So much for specifics, but I’m getting a little off the track. The point I’m trying to make is that doing the actual work of editing is an enlightening experience, because it perforce makes one reflect over what one reads. Now, I think that this is important. The best advice I ever received for keeping out of trouble is to think before speaking. The complement to that is to think after reading, to take the time to make sure one understands exactly what is being said. Not only does this lead to an improved comprehension of content, it also increases sensitivity to the nuances of expression.

1. This is not to say that it is absolutely necessary to vet your work or circulate it among people whose opinions you respect for commentary before you send it in for consideration—at least, not if the person you are sending it to is an editor. I’m one of those who never submits a manuscript until it has survived the scrutiny of at least four sets of eyes in addition to my own, though, and I find that this custom has been of enormous benefit to me. [↩]