The Laughing Wolf

In my life, I have been privileged to work with two of the finest editors in the world. Each has shaped me, both as a writer and as a person, and I want to take a few minutes to share them with you. For this is my chance to thank them, and to show all – most especially those that aspire to writing and beyond – what real editors are all about.

Dave Dooling was the first real editor in my life. I had worked for student and local newspapers before, but I can say that until Dave discovered me I had never truly worked with an editor. We met at the first Shuttle launch, with Dave being in attendance as a newspaper reporter for the Huntsville Times and myself as a student reporter. He was already much more than a mere reporter, having one *update: won, as someone has, see below* some prestigious writing awards and moving into the editing of magazines. At that time, I was still pursuing engineering and had no plans to become a reporter or full-time writer.

There were several student reporters down there, being soundly ignored or run over by the “big names” and the networks. This was not Dave’s style, and instead of treating us like garbage, he saw the potential in all of us and took us under his wings. For those that paid attention, he showed what a real journalist was all about and shared his hard-won knowledge with us. He introduced us to people, let us tag along with him a good bit, and showed the ropes. Mentoring came easy to him, and it was no surprise that several of us benefited from it then and later. It was through him, and his hiring me to write some pieces for a magazine, that I came to my current career.

Working for Dave was a dream, in that he would consider ideas as well as assign stories. Even better, when I turned in my stories he did something to them. He could take a good story, from myself or anyone, and somehow make changes in it that would make it sing. The magic to this was that it was hard to tell sometimes exactly what it was he had changed. He finessed words with a subtlety and power that continues to amaze me. In the process, I learned a great deal about writing and to believe in myself as a writer.

My first non-journalistic job took me to an interesting and fun Air Force research center, and into a not-so-fun and interesting job situation. Sharing that time with me was another person working their first non-journalism job: Catherine Foster. Catherine was a former Bush Fellow in Science Writing at MIT and the science reporter for the Oak Ridge, Tennessee, paper. Her credentials and awards were legion, and more than just a bit intimidating. She can be intimidating as needed, but was a warm and sharing person, and one I was happy to have at my side during that time.

I think we both shared a horror at what passed for an editorial process there, and for some of the alleged editors, and the result was that we worked closely with each other. The pure delight for me was that I could see her marks on my work. Now, that is not to say that I always agreed with them or liked them, but I loved seeing them.

Often as a writer, you don’t see your copy again after a certain point, and have no idea what has been done to it. What arrives at your desk or doorstep is the final product, which can either be good or not fit for wrapping fish. Here, I was able to see her marks, and to discuss them with her. Under her tutelage, I learned that there were many more levels of rules and opportunity. I learned more about my craft, about words, and about the proper breaking of rules. In so doing, she also taught me a great deal about editing, and helped get me off to a good start on that process.

Editing is not blind following of style guides and rules; it is not changing a story to that which you would write; and, most of all, it is not dumbing down. A good editor is much like a diamond cutter: you take a great raw product, and apply the least amount of shaping to make it more than it was, and then you polish it so that the story and the author shine to the fullest extent possible. So many fail to understand this, but it is the heart of the process.

The more work I have done over the years, and the more editors and staffs with which I have worked, the more I have come to appreciate how extraordinarily lucky I was to work with these two people. For they were Editors in the fullest and best meaning of the word. They spoiled me, yet at the same time they set a bar for myself and others. I thank them now, and hope that I may clear that bar one day, and be as good an editor, mentor, and friend to others as they have been to me.

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UPDATE: MommaBear wins the editing contest, by finding the error hidden in the text. She was the first to spot and report the use of "one" in place of "won" in the text above. Congratulations on winning the contest! Pity I'm broke and can't provide a real prize...

From my biased perspective, it is just plain bad business. With e-mail queries, I can get my rejections at the speed of light if the publications have me in their filters. On the positive side, it means that I can query an editor, get interest or non-interest comments and/or acceptance/rejection notices in a fairly timely manner. Since I make my living by the word, and timeliness is critical to making sales, determining what stories I am going to do or not do, when things are scheduled, and all such things as that, I am most interested in pitching ideas and getting replies as fast as possible.

It amazes me the publications that will not accept electronic submissions, from the old and stuffy to the new and sleek. The only correlation seems to be lots of attitude, of “We are it, and you are not” within the folds. That fits, given the games that used to be played in the submissions department. Items were rejected, or just flat out thrown away, because of some implied lese in terms of the envelope used, the paper used, or even that the address wasn’t done in the preferred way.

As a freelancer, I, along with others, eagerly sought after the mystic knowledge of such arcane twists. The foibles of any given magazine or editor were things to be treasured, to be shared with trusted friends, or doled out as favors to be collected upon later. It was not enough to have a good story or idea, but to meet all the hidden hurdles as well. Good stories are a dime a dozen, getting them into print is the hard part.

It still goes on today, even in the electronic age. Care is lavished on subject lines, greetings, and your lede. There are many schools of thought, and at those publications that do accept electronic submissions there are probably just as many foibles as before. They have changed from paper to matters of type and word choice, but they are there just the same.

Which makes it all the harder to understand those that refuse to join the modern world. They can still be as fussy and snobby as they like, just about slightly different things. It can’t be because of the volume of submissions, as such is actually easier to deal with in electronic format. Not only do you have a delete key as needed, you also have the ability to do automatic boilerplate rejections and more. You can clear the slush pile in record time if need be, or sit and take your time if desired.

The advantages are with it, but I suspect that the musty smell of tradition is in the air. The old adage of “this is the way we have always done it” lilts along the corridors. In some cases, it may be a simple lack of thought. Just now, I was contemplating a trip down to the library to do some research on a particular subject and a particular publication. It was several minutes before the neurons connected and I realized that I might just be able to do it online.

Time to get out the powder, and make sure that I am not a kettle calling the pot.

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