Writing as an Editor

Some of you might already know, but I started writing a book at the end of last year. I’ve had quite a few people ask me questions about how my writing has affected my editing and vice versa. So, I’ve decided to explore that a little in this blog post.

Before I started writing my book, I’d heard multiple people say that you shouldn’t hire an editor who’s never published a book. At the time, I thought that was completely ridiculous…and I still do. Writing and publishing a book has nothing to do with an editor’s qualifications. In fact, if an editor’s only qualification is that they’ve published a book, you should probably find a different editor.

However, writing has led me to see editing in ways I hadn’t necessarily considered as deeply before. For instance, editors are often taught that authors cannot be objective in relation to their own writing. While I understood this before, I now wholeheartedly feel it in my core. Are there “unconventional” aspects of my writing? Yes. Can I view them objectively? Absolutely not. If anything, this has shown me how valuable developmental editors in particular can be. When I’m ready for that stage of editing, I will be relying heavily on my editor to be knowledgeable and honest about what works in my story and what doesn’t.

I do think my writing improves my editing in a way similar to how reading books within the genre you edit improves your editing. Just as with each book I read I have a better understanding of editing concepts, with each word I write I further develop that knowledge by figuring out what does and doesn’t work in my story.

Finally, I would consider myself a pretty empathetic person, but I think the act of writing has helped me feel closer to the authors I work with. When they express frustration over trying to get a scene just right, I know exactly how they feel. And often, since I’ve been there myself, I have more suggestions or strategies for them to try based partially on what helped me through my own difficult scenes.

As a whole, I think writing and editing are intricately connected and constantly evolving. You don’t need to be a writer to be an editor, but venturing into writing as an editor certainly helps you improve your editing skills.

Can Gendered Words Be Used in an Ungendered Way?

I’ve thought about this topic for quite a while, and after attending the Fireside Chat with Karen Yin and the LGBTQ+ Editors Association, I decided to finally write this blog post. Yin talked about the importance of being open to new ideas when it comes to conscious language, and I think this topic relates to that idea quite well.

So, my idea for this blog post started with the idea of gendered language, something that permeates most cultures around the world, and how there’s been a push to implement ungendered, or gender-neutral language, to be more inclusive. I want to be clear that I am, in no way, advocating against gender-neutral language. It’s an important part of unbiased language, and I strive to implement it in both my professional and everyday life.

However, I wondered about instances where gender-neutral language is currently not sufficient in conveying some ideas that are conveyed in some examples of gendered language. What should we do when this happens? Should we invent new, gender-neutral terms to encompass similar meanings? Or, can we use gendered words in an ungendered way? I think both of these options have merit, but I’d like to explore the latter in this post.

First, let’s look at a couple examples of gendered words that don’t seem to have a gender-neutral equivalent capable of conveying all the connotations the gendered term has. The two terms that immediately came to mind for me were “sisterhood” and “brotherhood.” You certainly have the option to use “siblinghood,” but I would argue that “sisterhood” and “brotherhood” not only have different connotations than the gender-neutral alternative, but there are also different connotations between the two gendered terms as well.

As someone who grew up in a military family, I typically associate “brotherhood” with the military, but I don’t think it can only be used in that context. My father, who served in the Army, and I discussed this topic, and I asked him, “Did you feel a sense of brotherhood with the women you served with?” His answer was “absolutely.” In this sense, “brotherhood” has nothing to do with gender, even though it is technically a gendered word. It’s meaning goes far beyond gender, and it encapsulates the idea of bonding with another person by having gone through similar, often intense, experiences together. So, I would argue that people with any gender identity can feel a sense of brotherhood with anyone.

Similarly, I was in a sorority in college. One of our values is sisterhood, and as an only child, I learned a lot about the concept during my collegiate years. To me, sisterhood conveys the idea of bonding with someone by seeing who they truly are and loving them because of that. I am very proud to be a sister of one of the first sororities to openly accept genderqueer members, and that is partially why I think “sisterhood” can be used in an ungendered way. I feel a sense of sisterhood with my siblings in Delta Phi Epsilon in the same way I feel it with my sisters of DPhiE.

I know this blog post only scratches the surface of a very complex and deep topic, but I hope it generates conversations about how we can use gendered language in a more inclusive way. I hope it challenges you to see things in a way you maybe haven’t thought about before. However, I want to end with emphasizing that, above all else, it is more important to use language each individual prefers. I do not think it is right to force these gendered terms upon people, but I hope that maybe one day they will lose their associations with gender or we will invent similar gender-neutral terms that still encompass the depth of their meanings.

How Being Autistic Makes Me a Better Editor

A little over a year ago I was diagnosed as autistic, something I’m adamant on being open about, especially because so many women go undiagnosed for way too long. In many ways, I’m thankful that I wasn’t diagnosed until adulthood because my autistic traits were accepted while I was growing up; I was allowed to be autistic, maybe with the judgment of being quirky, but I wasn’t pressured into masking in some ways.

When I received my diagnosis, the process felt strange to me. Why is autism a “disorder”? Isn’t it just part of who I am? So many of the stereotypes and widely held beliefs about autistic people did not ring true for me. Because of this, I was able to appreciate being autistic. And I discovered that being autistic makes me a better editor. “How?” you might ask.

Many autistic people see things differently than neurotypical people. We are the epitome of “thinking outside the box,” oftentimes because we don’t see the box or don’t understand why the box is the frame from which everyone else seems to operate. I think this tendency is what frequently leads to the “genius” stereotype because the “unique” ideas of autistic people sound prodigious to neurotypical people.

Despite the stereotypes, being able to think of various original ideas is exactly what you want in a developmental editor. Developmental editing, in my opinion, is a creative collaboration between an author and an editor in an attempt to elevate the manuscript. Authors don’t need run-of-the-mill or ordinary suggestions to improve their stories.

Now, am I saying authors need autistic editors’ brilliant and visionary suggestions? No, that’s completely buying into the “genius” stereotype. But they do need autistic editors’ uncommon and maybe unusual suggestions. The goal is not for the editor to come up with the greatest or most unique idea. The goal is for the editor to come up with different ideas that inspire the author’s best ideas. And, I would argue, autistic editors have an advantage in pursuing that goal.

Editing as a Subjective Art Form

What’s an opinion I held about editing that changed after I took editing classes? Well, before I started pursuing freelance editing, I did not think of editing as subjective. I thought about it like a math problem; your answer, or your edit, was either right or wrong. Now, I’m often amazed by how subjective editing truly is, in all its forms.

Developmental editing is an area that is clearly subjective. Even before I took developmental editing classes (and before I knew what it really was), I would’ve said it is highly subjective if someone had explained it to me. Sure, there are certain things that are clearly right or wrong. A POV error is an error no matter how you look at it. But most aspects of developmental editing are subjective, even instinctive.

That being said, when I first started taking courses for my copyediting certificate, I was shocked to discover that copyediting is also subjective. Do you need a comma here? Well, you don’t need one, but you might want one, and the reader might think it’s a mistake if there isn’t one. Should you use “who” or “that” when referring to a person? i.e. “The person who wrote this blog post” or “The person that wrote this blog post”?

In fiction editing, these topics, along with many others, are highly subjective. Sometimes even matters of correctness are still subjective. For instance, the phrase “I couldn’t care less,” is correct, but so many people use “I could care less” that it is not necessary to implement the “correct” phrase as an editor.

On top of that, the fact that writing is subjective for writers and editing is subjective for editors allows for plenty of room for miscommunication. That’s one reason why it’s so important to make sure you find an editor who is a good fit for you. So many aspects of writing and editing are up to interpretation, and ensuring writers and editors are on the same page is vital to creating a story that maintains the author’s meaning while also polishing the manuscript to make it the best it can be.

Why Readers Need Your Books

I recently attended a virtual event where a few authors shared about their books, and the moderator asked who they write for. This is a question every author has likely asked themselves at one point or another, and it is inextricably linked to the question of who needs the books authors are writing. As a reader and editor, both are important, but I think authors can lose sight of who needs their books; they don’t always realize the impact their words have on readers, and their stories are often a guiding force in readers’ lives.

Above all else, it’s essential that an author writes for themselves. I have not yet met an author who doesn’t feel some sort of calling to their craft. No one would choose to do the extremely difficult task of creating a story without feeling some deeper motivation for wanting to do so. So, first and foremost, writers should always write for themselves. At the end of the day, your opinion of your work as an author is more valuable than anyone else’s.

In addition, many authors from marginalized backgrounds recognize that their work brings a sense of comfort and belonging to people from similar communities, especially those writing for a young adult audience. Authors that write the stories they needed to hear as an adolescent are changing the world one book at a time. In this way, their work is more meaningful than many people can express in words.

Finally, and I think this category is often overlooked, authors’ stories often have a significant and lasting impact on readers who either don’t know they have something in common with the author or who don’t have much in common with the author at all. I personally found my place within the LGBTQIA+ community and the neurodivergent community through reading (and no, books did not make me queer, they gave me a word for what I was already feeling). I’ve had the chance to interact with a couple authors whose books changed my life, and I always feel like I can’t quite convey how much their books mean to me. They are a part of me.

Similarly, we all have different experiences in this world, and sometimes our experiences do not teach us about the beauty of diversity. Again, this is how I felt growing up. I live in a predominantly white neighborhood, went to school with only a handful of students who weren’t white, didn’t know any openly queer people until college, and wasn’t exposed to religion much after my first communion (after which I gently informed my parents that I had learned everything about Christianity because the classes were becoming repetitive). Much like Jasmine in Aladdin, I experienced the world through books. Did the authors of the books I read write them for me? No, and they shouldn’t have been writing for me anyway, but I did benefit from them nonetheless. Having access to diverse books gave me a better understanding of the world and all the different people in it. Are real-world experiences more effective? Probably, but when I didn’t have that option, books were there for me.

So, for all the authors out there wondering if your books have an impact, they do! If you wrote a book from your heart, a book that you put a piece of yourself into, then someone somewhere connected with it on a deeper level. Whether it helped them feel less alone in the world, helped them understand themselves better, or helped them learn about other people, it made a difference in their lives. Writers should always write for themselves first, but never doubt the effect they have on readers in the process.