Being Edited for the First Time

Many of my friends are expressing dread about working with an editor for the first time. This piece offers some of my lived experience with the process.

I am delighted to see that so many of my friends and colleagues are now getting book deals or wider opportunities to share their writing. As a long-time author, having now published over 10 books with five different publishers, not to mention countless pieces in magazines, online outlets, and even in dreaded academic journals, I know how hard the process can be. Not only is putting yourself out there daunting, now that it’s noticed, you are faced with the pressure of having your work further critiqued and refined. 

Recently, many folks in my circles are posting about the dread of the editing process; namely the fear that an editor will expose them as frauds. Out them for not being “good enough” as a writer or thinker. A few even admit that such a fear might be more about their own insecurity, and I appreciate this honest assessment. Having to tackle that in myself was an important part of embracing editorial feedback. Working with these gremlins of self-doubt and inadequacy remains a constant part of both my writing and personal therapeutic process. I thought it might be helpful, through this piece, to share some lived experience on working with many editors over the years with friends, colleagues, and new writers alike. 

I must disclose that, overall, I’ve had delightful experiences with editors. I am aware that this is not every author’s experience. I’ve heard the horror stories about editors in certain forums who rip authors to shreds and make them feel like pieces of shit as humans. The closest I’ve experienced this phenomenon is working with academic journal editors whose job it seems is to both police tone and to polish your work to meet the high demands of academic scrutiny. Although I’ve cursed at the computer many times and have ranted privately (and in therapy) about this process, I admit that if my goal was to be a fully academic writer, these editors were in a great position to make me the best.  I am proud that I have a handful of high level journal articles to my credit. Yet going through these editorial processes taught me what kind of author I don’t want to be and what kind of criticism is toxic. So I even have gratitude for those editors for indirectly showing me the kind of writing I want to share with the world. 

The books I’ve written can best be described as clinical in nature, sharing knowledge from my experience as both a professional trauma therapist and as a person with lived experience of mental health and addiction recovery struggles. Some of the book publishers I’ve worked with have asked me to downplay my personal experience or touch on it only lightly. In the early days of trying to get established I largely complied, although in later years and with more credibility established, I’ve felt more confident in seeking out publishers who will not censor me. My later books embody what I call a “memoirish” quality while seeking to educate on topics like trauma-informed 12 step recovery, addiction, and dissociation. Only now am I embarking into the world of full-on memoir, and I am grateful to work with a publisher and an editor who support this transition. Yet I’ve also been prepared to look elsewhere or to publish something on my own (which I’ve done with a few of my books) if what the publishers want doesn’t align with my authentic voice. 

So the first question that you might have to ask yourself as a new author is how much you are willing to “play ball,” i.e., compromise with your publisher’s vision of what they need (and believe that they can sell) and what you feel in your gut must be expressed. In a perfect world these dynamics will be negotiated before you sign the contract and even get to editing. Yet the reality is that such conflicts might not surface until you’ve turned in a first draft or sample chapters for feedback. Depending on the nature of your contract or established agreement with the publisher, you will need to decide how much to defend your authentic position on major disagreements in content. For many authors, this disagreement can be a gift that forces you to refine your contentions and make your voice clearer. 

There is another and very valuable side to this coin I implore you to consider—editors are there to make you and your writing come across as better, clearer, and more impactful. Yes, we must be cautious about editors or publishers who seem like they want to strip us of our authentic voice altogether. Yet I’ve been lucky (or blessed, however you want to look at it) in my writing career thus far to work with book editors, and in most cases periodical editors, who are committed to preserving my voice while also bringing out the best in it. If you can approach editing with this mindset—I am a writer and the editors are there to help me be even better—you will flourish. 

I am someone who still deals with my share of rejection sensitivity and being activated by unfair criticism. And I also love being content edited by mindful and skillful editors. Even if their feedback can make me cringe at first, I’ve learned to sit with it for at least a day or two before responding. Take those breaths and notice the sensations that come up in your body when you read the edits. Holding your breath never makes a creative process easier. All of these books in, the cringe factor doesn’t seem to happen as much because I have ample evidence that going through the editorial processes has proven to be my best continuing education as a writer. Even if you are deciding to go the self-publishing route, hire an editor. Trust me on this one, your work will be the better for it. 

A helpful tip when you are first getting started with an editor is to ask them, “What is your approach to editing?” As mentioned, in a perfect world you establish this before signing any kind of agreement to get that gut read if you are with the writing publisher or outlet. It can also be helpful to ask this question again before you read your first set of content edits. Typically edits come in two rounds. Content edits, as the phrase suggests, is about what you are presenting and how you are presenting it. Then come the copyedits, getting into the weeds with issues like grammar and word choice. This second part of the process offers the necessary second, and in some cases even third, set of eyes that will improve the work. Knowing that my work will eventually be copyedited allows me to focus on what’s most important, the content, when I write and refine. 

Wherever you are at in your journey as a writer, I wish you the best in your creative process. In concluding this piece, I am realizing anew how it is all creative process; not just the joy of getting your ideas on to paper for the first time or the euphoria of seeing your byline or book in print. Even dancing with those red pens marks and track changes is process… perhaps the most valuable part of it because they can force you to confront your own creative or self-critical demons. They can help you realize that you have a voice, and it is worthy of being cultivated and even pruned for further growth.