Seeing edits as love

I'm remembering my first editor, Henry, and how I was terrified of his edits. Today's newsletter is about overcoming my fear of edits.

Last week, I wrote about submitting a personal essay for Writing Class Radio's podcast. The first comment was from Allison Langer, one of the editors who helped me with that essay. She said, "Editing is love." 

It was such a great quote I decided to dedicate today's newsletter to it and recount my evolution with editing. 

When I was a newbie writer, I hardly thought of editing as love. I felt like it was a necessary evil, a bandaid that needed to be ripped off, so I’d tell myself, hurry the f*ck up. 

My revised draft would come in, and I'd be paralyzed at my desk, afraid to open it. Now, I see it as a joyful process with people who care about me. As Allison said, it’s love.

My first editor

Henry was an older gentleman who wore bow ties, sweater vests, and horn-rimmed glasses. He was whip-smart and could out-grammar anyone. He was my editor when I worked as an editorial web producer for Warner Brothers.

It was 2010 and I was at Extra, the TV show about celebrities hosted by Mario Lopez. Like the other producers on the show I sat in the newsroom, but I worked strictly on the website. 

I used to joke that the other web producer and I were the show's ugly stepchildren. We weren't important enough to be in the center of the newsroom but my little cubicle near the front door was just fine because I loved working there. 

Based on the show, I had a lot of flexibility in what I could pick and choose to write about for the website; my early-hour shift was fantastic, and my boss was the coolest.

The scariest part of my day was dealing with Henry. 

I'm not sure why, but Henry worked from another office. He called me on the office phone whenever he had edits or questions about my writing. The red button on the phone would light up, causing a mini heart attack each time.

On a good day, Henry called no less than five times. He worked on several other Warner Brothers shows and didn't have time to chat on instant messenger. 

He sometimes asked his questions nicely, but he often yelled. Henry was sarcastic and funny, and no one could make me feel more stupid when it came to grammar could I please stop misspelling every day vs. every day, for Christ’s sake? He was stressful yet so delightful.

I still remember turning in the very first piece to Henry. My fingers hovered over the "send" button on my email, my hands clammy.

The more slashes and comments I received, the more of a failure I was. I'm making Henry’s job harder. I’m not doing a good enough job of engaging the show's audience. My writing is boring. I suck at grammar. 

Perhaps some of that was true, but much of it was in my head. I was too focused on what Henry thought of me as a person. I felt like I was constantly being judged.  

But I learned to appreciate Henry’s direction, and over time, my writing improved. 

After Extra, I transferred to another show, this time, with Anderson Cooper in NYC. Henry continued to be my editor. 

Eventually, Henry and I became pals, and I stopped being afraid of his edits because we were buddies. Underneath his prickly exterior, he was just a big softie. 

Sure, I'd get chastised occasionally, but I knew he cared about my work and me. Plus, I realized his edits were usually quick and he always made the final piece so much better.

As they say in show biz, I grew a thicker skin, and it got easier to see slashes and marks on my drafts. 

I have never made the mistake of every day vs. every day. 

Taking edits personally

After TV, I worked in tech, where I had to understand the nuances of software and hardware and how it served a particular group of customers.

Because the writing was so technical, I relied on the product and engineering teams to review what I wrote. Unlike my time at Extra, I didn't have a Henry and I didn’t take drastic edits to heart because my "editors" mostly looked for technical mistakes.

So back to submitting my essay for the podcast and all of the edits I received. I subconsciously thought, my essay wasn't a technical piece about some software or data integration; it was about me. It's a personal essay, which means only I can write it; only I know myself, what's true, and how I feel inside. It's a part of me, so how could I not take the edits personally? That's why I felt squirmy and deflated each time I opened the draft and saw it was filled with comments, questions, and strikethroughs.  

But once I slowed down to contemplate the edits and opened myself up to go deeper and figure out the why, why, why, I saw a much more emotionally-driven story emerge. 

The piece transformed from a chrysalis to a butterfly, and the process was so rewarding. 

My teachers, Allison and Andrea cheered me on the whole time. You've got this. You're almost there. This is looking so much better. 

My squirminess began to fade, and I started to see each edit as a gift.

How do you view editing? Has it been an evolution for you too? Curious how you think about it.

More stuff on editing…