Delicious Ambiguity? Assisting Writers Documenting Upheaval, for Editors
From planning through to final stages — what I learnt about how we, as editors, can best support writers documenting unprecedented times.
This year, when the time came that Advanced Editing students, RMIT, would normally have had our first meet-up with the Diploma of Photography and Photo Imaging students, Covid19 had hit Victoria and we were in lockdown. Still, each editing student would be assigned to work as editor on a photography student’s photobook, only this year we would be doing it entirely from our homes.
Naturally, the photobooks would need to change so as to be not only possible in lockdown, but relevant to it. This was a chance to be involved in the documentation of a historic moment in time.
While this was an exciting opportunity to some, for others it felt like more of a spanner in the works. Fred Farquaar, the student I was to work with, was undoubtedly excited about his book, but as far as the changes went he was more in the spanner camp.
He’d had a clear plan and now had to tell a different story. Deciding what that new story would be, exactly, was a challenge.
I was roughly half in the exited camp, half in spanner camp. It was a rare opportunity, but it was also tricky. Due dates were unavoidably changeable, as were expectations regarding restrictions. While it was great that Fred’s dog, Duncan, would sometimes attend Zoom meetings, it was strange not meeting face to face, and sad that I could only see Fred’s beautiful photos on my cheap laptop screen.
Being The Authority On Not Knowing
Fred’s book is about a cycling ‘community’ (not team), Knights of Suburbia, focusing particularly on cyclist Olivia Atansovska. The cycling world is one I knew nothing about, and Fred anticipated this. His first email included links to relevant websites, and so I had a few tabs open to refer to for our first meeting. By the end of it had more.
I was compiling a style sheet long before I had any copy in front of me. Even so, keeping up with all this new lingo could be overwhelming.
Fred and I soon agreed on one essential fact: he was the authority on photography and cycling, and I was the authority on text and not knowing what he was talking about.
The more I embraced this attitude, the more I realised it was important. I wasn’t just learning definitions, which we could pepper throughout the book, I was learning what really mattered to the story.
Sacrificing Your Dark Night
Fred had great shots and ideas, but wasn’t sure anymore what to use as the beginning, middle or end. Looking at his plans, I felt what was missing was the dark night of the soul. To my surprise, he agreed.
Yes, that would be great, he said shaking his head with a smile, but Olivia doesn’t do that.
He learnt this at Peaks Challenge. He was waiting for Olivia at the top Mount Hotham, ready to get The Shot of her showing the 120 km of cycling through cold, wet conditions on her face. And it was there, he thinks, for just a moment but before he could lift his camera, she spotted him, and a huge smile spread over her face.
Of course, a global pandemic comes with challenges and tragedy, but for Olivia and the Knights there would be no dark night of the soul. Aware of the dangers and concerns, they would stay safe while finding new ways to connect, support each other, and advocate for mental health. If there was a moment when it wore them down, it was fleeting and certainly gone before Fred could get the shot.
So that was the story he would tell.
We roll deep.
We roll for body, we roll for mind.
We roll for ourselves, we roll for others.
We roll together, we roll apart.
But when we roll, we know we’re Never Alone.
— Knights of Suburbia motto
Creating Certainty
I had thought that I should be flexible in these times of uncertainty, but knowing that ultimately Fred knew the story he wanted to tell, and needing to see some writing, I reluctantly set a due date for a draft.
I was reminded then, that flexibility can be detrimental. Providing due dates is important for creating some stability, especially in unstable times.
Fred got the draft to me on time. It was still without an ending though. He hoped that if he waited a little longer, restrictions might lift and he could get a shot of the Knights reunited.
Delicious Ambiguity
It soon became an unavoidable fact that we were not going to get this happy ending.
I felt this was okay for the story, better even. This is a book that says: there are people out there who want you to know that you’re not alone, no matter how alone you might feel. Never alone. An important and heartening message, especially right now. A conclusion emphasising this, while acknowledging the uncertainty of the times, was all the story needed now.
After a bit of back and forth Fred sent me a conclusion so good it gave me chills.
A Perfect Ending
“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next.
Delicious Ambiguity.”
― Gilda Radner
Much like Fred, I find myself longing for a neat bow with which I can wrap up this piece. I want to tell you I have seen the finished book, that I’ve held it my hands. That I met Fred and Duncan the dog.
I can’t say these things. Someday, maybe soon, I will hold the book in my hands. For now, though, I cling to what I know. I’m grateful for everything I have learnt, and proud to have played a part in the telling of this valuable story.
