I sat down after registering for ACFW conference and asked myself a question: What can I bring that’s of benefit to the people there? I can’t possibly repay the education, time and services being provided to me. How do I bless these people the way they’re blessing me?

I also edit, and I know what I don’t like to be presented with. It’s a perennial posting topic on industry blogs. It’s something that comes to a writer in the abstract when one’s not faced with it. One hears it said and thinks, I shall never be so uncouth.

And yet I’ve faced it from the other side of the desk. And I absolutely understand it. Maggie Woychik of Port Yonder Press said it all in this post. Currently, the ACFW first-timers’ loop is doing a lot of highly gracious coaching on avoiding various interpersonal mistakes. The summary:

Don’t be an adversarial author.

What does “adversarial” mean? Well, I can think of a number of things. They’re as true for an independent editor as they are for an in-house one, and maybe more so, because they can just as easily be accompanied by threat of non-payment or the risk of bad word-of-mouth from a client who simply doesn’t understand an editor’s function. That’s something that comes up on my editors’ network from time to time, and it just makes me cringe.

Some Points on the Hit List

1) View editors as if they’re out to tamper with your work.

Most of the time, the answer is that things about your work need to get better. This is a highly competitive industry.

2) Assume you know what an editor’s talking about rather than asking for clarification on confusing points, especially when you disagree. Then carry on about it, creating circular conversation and communication static.

If a publishing staff member’s trying to clear up a problem, ask. Be non-defensive and non-accusing. They’ll appreciate the time it saves everyone. Inordinate time taken by one client can often mean time taken away from another client, which means career suicide for any editor who lets this carry on. That’s why so much teaching is available out there on this point. There’s no time to coach writers through it, so it is a key point of acquisitions.

3) Refuse to let an editor come alongside and extend you into new realms as an author/insist the editor is there to say yes to all your brilliant ideas.

Nurturing the creative vision of others is what we’re all about. Treating that as an incursion or an insult when one turns out not to be the glamourous hotshot one thought one was is unworkable. It’s a major problem of being the minor god of a world all one’s own. One does so get used to being bowed down to. (Was that self-talk? Oh, gosh. Never.)

Fastest cure: A good critique group. All those other demigods will quickly have one sorted out.

4) Assume the editor is there to reject you as a human being and tell you how many ways you’re not good enough.

At the first writers’ conference I ever went to, three years ago or so, somebody said something along those lines. Out loud. In the session being run by a major Canadian periodical editor. Facepalm.

That’s really not what either acquisitions or pre-release edits are about. If a bad attitude is presented, a boilerplate rejection is likely all you’re going to get. There’s a saying that the less one says, the less another person has to argue against. You know, form rejections in and of themselves are not all that ungracious. I have yet to hear of any company adopting the Darth Failer as their standard form return.

5) Assume you have to hide what you don’t know, rather than laying it out to be worked on, because otherwise your contacts won’t take you seriously.

Because the minute you land in over your head and refuse to adjust for that, of course no one will notice you nonchalantly brushing aside the life preservers they’re wildly flinging your way.

Pride. Pure and simple. People are there to get the job done, and the collaborative effort is key to that. Reliance on each other’s skills is key. Also, the minute a client opens their mouth to argue, any editor with any experience will be able to pick out exactly how deep are the depths of that client’s basic ignorance on craft. Only some things are house preferences, and yes, every house does have their own, but that’s something to work with, not crusade against. It’s part of house branding.

El Diva

Adversarial tendencies are very easy to pick up on. It manifests as “defending the creative work” rather than exploring it jointly. And in some cases, it manifests as defending bad craft as part of the art, when in fact, bad craft is what gets in the way of artistic expression. That is one of our most ubiquitous sins as writers: clinging to cherished technical quirks. We all do it, whether from laziness about cleaning it up or untoward affection for some device or other. I do not know a writer who doesn’t do it from time to time, myself included. But there’s a time to let go. When you’re talking to the person who can open or close doors on your career, that’s probably a good time to take the plunge on this one.

The Real Deal

Editors are there, in fact, to clear the bad craft out of the way so that the art can actually shine through clearly. It’s part of the job to look thoughtfully and carefully at the work and be able to say, “I hear you in there, I see what you want to communicate. Let’s throw open the windows and let it shout to the world.” That’s what editorial support means. It means that a writer doesn’t have to fret over not being perfect, because there will be someone there to catch them.

…we do expect our associates to portray a professional attitude, a teachable spirit, and shy away from that all-too-common complaint levied against the creatively-turned: that of having an “artistic temperament.” ~C. Maggie Woychik

So actually, I know what I can bring to contacts, friends, colleagues and conference participants alike. That’s it right there. It’s called, “How can I help you?”

The difference between that and “So what are you going to do for me?” is day and night.