Editing is Hard

Danna Colman, I feel you. I’m a technical writer. I edit the grammar mistakes of software engineers all day, ‘erreday. Chasing after active voice and avoiding second person pronouns is my job. As a technical writer, I also understand (as Alexainie points out) that it’s a lot easier to spot errors when you’re not the original author. Authors, especially those who write creatively, tend to have an emotional investment in their own work, and it’s easy to overlook errors.

From what you wrote here, it sounds like the kinds of errors you were seeing, were more indicative of a general lack of knowledge than a few trivial comma splices or misplaced modifiers. While those kinds of errors make me cringe, I try to think about it from a linguist’s perspective — language evolves over time. It doesn’t really stop the cringing, but at least it gives me a small sense of security.

It is the job of the editor to correct mistakes, not to judge them. Trying not to be judgmental about other people’s writing is something that I personally really struggle with. I’m sure you can also attest to that.

Humans have a tendency to make mistakes. Language isn’t easy for everyone. Writing isn’t easy for everyone. But, everyone uses language to communicate, and a lot of people try to go about the dirty business of writing.

Writing is hard.

Writing from a place of passion is even harder. Editing something you’re passionate about is the hardest. It’s very easy to get excited about seeing a finalized version of your draft on display out there in the ether, opened up for (hopefully) compliments and (a lot less hopefully) criticism.

Whether something is written well or written poorly, grammar rules aside, is completely subjective. One of my favorite authors is Kurt Vonnegut. He had some pretty choice words for technical writers… and semicolons come to think of it, and he notoriously rejected traditional grammar rules — but I still love his work. That’s the thing about great creative work, you never know when or from whom a new style will be born.

I’m sure, editor to editor, you can look over what I’ve written here and pick it apart. I can too. I’ve already given it several passes, and no matter what, I know when I hit that publish button, I’m going to want to edit it again. Letting go of a thing, knowing it’s not perfect and never will be, is a terrible feeling. I never end up liking anything I’ve written, no matter how much I’ve whittled away at it, because I hold myself to impossibly high standards. But, I give myself credit for having the guts write at all. Publishing, to me, is acknowledging those imperfections and being comfortable enough to let it stet.