Beyond Grammar and Punctuation
To this very moment, I find myself consistently doubting my abilities as an editor. For all the guidance my dictionary, thesaurus or trust style manual can provide, there always seem to be multiple solutions to the problem at hand.
I’ve often overlooked that the best fixes are often the simplest: joining a sentence to its subject, rearranging the order of paragraphs, or even introducing a caption to text. It’s easy to so lose yourself in the pursuit of grammar and punctuation that you miss the things most pertinent to the medium you’re working with.
I had the pleasure of working in collaboration with two photographers on their respective photobooks, but when I was told that they wanted input on the narrative structure of the photographic content itself, I felt doubly unqualified. Surely a photographer would know how to structure the pictures of their stories better than anyone else?
But like writers, or rather any creative, we often fail to see the small mistakes that slip past us in our work. It’s that fresh set of eyes, less invested in the project, that sees the things we can’t. I started by trusting in the fact that I was a fresh set of eyes and that, after all, it was up to the photographers whether they wanted to accept or rebuke the suggestions made to them.
The first problem that arose with both my photographers was how discouraged they were before they had even begun writing — for fear that I would judge them heavily on their prose.
Aside from the fact that I thought them both great and emotive writers, they needed to know that all writing starts with a first draft, and that a first draft can be redrafted and revised as many times needed.
Once there was something on the page, we could work together from there.
In his first draft, one of my photographers, Matthew Feldman, sent me a paraphrased excerpt from an interview between him and his subject Chris Giddings, an active member of the RMIT Socialist Alternative Club. The problem was that it was nearly impossible to tell what was said by the subject and what by the photographer; the excerpt had been morphed into the voice of both, and there was an absence of attributions of what was said by Chris themself.
Working with Matthew, we were able to clarify the excerpt as Matthew’s introduction of Chris Giddings to the reader. With a recording of the interview in hand, we were then able to accurately attribute quotations to Chris for certain key phrases that reflected their voice and personality.
In my second meeting with my other photographer, Chao Bi, I was surprised to find that she had brought the subject of her photography with her. I didn’t think this would be necessary, as I could work solely through my photographer Chao rather than her subject Chen Deng, an international student studying in her third and final year in a Bachelor of Fashion and Design at RMIT.
While this may have been true, taking the time to talk with Chen broadened my perspective of what I’d already known. She provided a lot fun and interesting details about her time at RMIT, such as the fact she would often sneak into other classes she wasn’t enrolled in just to get work done in her spare time. I thought it to be a very interesting titbit for a reader, and so I urged Chao to include it.
They both seemed genuinely interested in any thoughts I could offer, and that encouraged me to do all I could. Ultimately, the role of an editor is a supporting one. While myself and my cohort were not required to go beyond what was asked of us by our assessment criteria, I found the more time I spent on each photobook, the more determined I was to see them flourish.
Each editor who worked on the collaborative project had been cautioned from the start of the project that acknowledgement was not guaranteed. I was lucky enough to be acknowledged by both photographers I worked with, and while I took great pleasure in seeing my work recognised, I was happier seeing the changes in print.
Both books had come such a long way from the various stages of development throughout the project. I could still see the pages of each photobook revision strewn across my bedroom floor, covered in red pen. It was proof that all the structural changes and personal thoughts I could offer beyond corrections of grammar and punctuation made a difference.
Trust in the fact that you can bring something to the table to help whomever you may be working with. Beyond the confines of grammar and punctuation, remember to look at the product you’re working with, be it an article, manuscript or in this case a photobook. When you begin to do that, you’ll be delighted to find that you’ll have more tools to support your author.
