editor: friend or foe?

A stupid question?  Perhaps.  But the dynamics between the editor and the client are not as straightforward as one might expect.  A very public example is the stormy relationship between the late 20th century American short story writer, Raymond Carver, and his editor, Gordon Lish.  Apparently  Carver was often deeply concerned by Lish's ruthless editing of his work.

Clients can experience mixed reactions to an edited document, which, on the one hand, they realise reads much better, and on the other, hurts their feelings because so much work has been required to convert it from wordy, poorly punctuated and vaguely vocabularised to succinct, precise and more engaging.

Does this surprise you?  It did me.  When it happened, I almost found myself apologising for having improved the report, which, of course, would have been ridiculous.  Ironically, or perhaps not, the organisation requesting the report was pleased with it, and subsequently offered my client more work.  When I see him, however, I still wonder if he harbours some residual negative feelings towards me.  This is his problem, more than mine, and he'd be the first to admit it, but the fact that I'm blogging about it shows that a tiny part of me still wonders if I did the correct thing.

People have different definitions of proofreading and editing.   A strict confining to proofreading limits the 'editor' to checking for spelling, punctuation and formatting inconsistencies.  At the top end of what can be done, developmental editing, as its names suggests, involves helping the client develop the initial idea. My level, substantial editing, can involve improving clunky sentences, often necessitating a restructuring, as well as replacing inappropriate words, checking for incorrect grammar, punctuation etc.

An obvious solution is to ensure, where possible, that you consult with your client prior to undertaking the work.   I stipulate, 'where possible', because there can be occasions where consultation isn't possible. I received an email from an acquaintance one morning, sent at 8 am from Amsterdam airport, asking me if there was any way I could proofread several documents that day.  I didn't need a degree in psychology to realise that this client was stressed to the nines, and my pragmatic response was to say 'yes', without engaging in a discussion about what exactly he wanted.  I did a bit more than proofread, he was pleased and this has resulted in ongoing work.

Another client requested strictly proofreading, suggesting that if there was anything which required rewriting, I highlight it, rather than attempt to improve it myself.  I reigned myself in - for a while - before realising that if I returned the document having only proofread it, the number of sentences highlighted would be ridiculously high.  I then proceeded to correct them, returned the document and waited, albeit with some anxiety, for a response.  The longer I waited, the more I convinced myself I'd caused offence.  Eventually I received a brief email thanking me for what I'd done, saying it was great,  and asking me to invoice her.

One way to ascertain exactly what the client needs is to give them a written list of how you can improve their work and ask them to tick what they want.  If they want you to track changes, it's helpful to warn them that their document will resemble a battlefield until they're accepted or rejected such changes.  I now have a checklist, which hopefully will clarify in advance exactly what is required.  Ideally there will be time to go through the checklist with the client.

What to charge can be troublesome, especially for those like me who haven't been born with a gene for business.  If someone is prepared to pay £40 for a thirty minute appointment with a physiotherapist, surely he can justify charging £25 for sixty minutes' worth of time?  How can you compare the value of diagnosing and treating a structural problem with the body, with the ability to improve someone's written English?

What do you do when a potential client asks you to edit their 120,000 word book which they are desperate to publish, but can only afford to pay you £400?  Professional editors could and would charge up to £1200 pounds for this, other editors might offer to do it for £250. The reality is that to do a comprehensive edit takes hours and hours.  I know of a publisher who  advised the writer that her submitted novel needed editing.  The woman replied that she'd just paid £800 to have it edited.

These are some of the decisions facing an editor.  Being good at what you do, professional in your approach are essential.  Deciding when it is okay to overstep your remit and when to reduce your fees are important, but more difficult to achieve.

Doubtless, the learning curve will continue.

Jane