It all started with a tweet from a young editor (who gave me permission to use their tweet, but I’ve decided not to put their name out in public) who said “A developmental editor is not the same as a copy editor is not the same as a line editor is not the same as a proofreader is not the same as a beta reader.” Then, parenthetically, they said editors would be horrified by that run-on.
Except it’s not one. It’s a perfectly grammatical sentence.
I checked with Lisa McLendon (@MadamGrammar) to see if I was on the right track. I was, but my diagramming skills are a little rusty. I left out “the same as” for convenience; that doesn’t affect the grammaticality of the overall structure one whit.
Here’s the quick diagram she sent me:
The fleshed-out version of the sentence in question goes like this: “Developmental editing is not the same as copy editing which is not the same as line editing which is not the same as …” I’m sure you get the idea. Should there be commas before every instance of which? That depends largely on the register (c’mon, you knew I’d go there) of the piece. For my blog here, and for a tweet, commas are largely unnecessary; it’s part of internet register, and it’s fitting for the “front-porch chat” feel I aim for here at my blog home. If we were to hear someone say that sentence, chances are probably 50/50 there’d be pauses. Me? I’d run it all right into one big thought. “This is not that is not that other thing is not that thing way over there.”
If that sentence was used in a text, say, for a 101 editing class, you bet I’d put commas where you’d expect to see them. “Developmental editing is not the same as copy editing, which is not the same as line editing, which is not the same …”
Register drives everything from word choice to style choice to mechanics. And, with or without those commas, this isn’t a run-on sentence.
That’s the heart of the matter, here.
Not “New Year,” because this has next to nothing to do with the holiday that’s several days past already. Just “new year,” because in fact it is a new year.
Last year there were quite a few changes in our household, but I’m not here to talk about them. Face it; you don’t give a shit about what happens in my house. Not unless it’s editing, and especially if it’s editing YOUR project. So, don’t sweat it. This isn’t the blog equivalent of some dreadful/dreaded holiday letter. Continue reading “Obligatory new year post”
And by “re-evaluate myself,” I mean “reconsider my editing rates.” I am not the editor I was in 2012, when I hung out my imaginary shingle and said “Hi, I’m an independent editor who wants to work with independent authors.”
I’ve edited nearly 70 titles since then. I’ve never stopped reading books on the art and craft of editing, and I’ve started reading books on the art and craft of writing because, surprise surprise, they help me be a better editor. I’ve continued reading for pleasure (not nearly as much as I wish I had time for!). I’ve taken a class in developmental editing: a beginning class, because I was very unsure of my skill set even though my clients all told me I was doing the work already.
They were right. Continue reading “Time to re-evaluate myself.”
I don’t do an annual review. I do it when I think about how I’ve not done it for a while. And so, here I am tonight, tapping at my pink-backlit keyboard. (I just fat-fingered that and typoed it as “pinko.” Fitting, actually …) And this is as much about me as about the blog, to be honest. Continue reading “The State of the Editor, 2017”
I’ve been working my butt off, and I’ve been fighting some form of plague for the last couple of weeks, but I’m still here.
Let’s see. So far this year, I’ve edited eight projects ranging from a short story to a 115-thousand-word novel. Two were for new clients; the balance were for “regulars” (in some cases long-term!). How many words total, you ask?
Three hundred ninety-nine thousand. (Give or take. I rounded up.)
In two months.
Now, I schedule myself at about 160K words/month. That’s my ideal. But as you can see, ideal doesn’t always happen. Projects slide; people get sick; cars need repairs; life happens. And when life happens, I work with every client to ensure we both get what we want and need out of the situation. It might mean contacting a couple of other clients to see if we can play with deadlines. It might mean suggesting to a new client that they take an extra month to coddle their baby project before they turn it over to me, so that a) they feel better about it, and b) I can better work on one that arrived late and needs extra TLC.
Things happen. And I roll with them, and talk to whoever I need to talk to, and keep on working.
If you click on this link, you’ll see much of what I did for the month of January. My main project was editing A Facet for the Gem, the first in a series by Charles L. Murray.
Within a few hours of my returning the edited file to him, Charles made a lovely public post about the process of working with me and the kinds of things I found, which of course I’d find for any of my clients. (It’s what I pride myself on. It’s not only about grammar and usage and mechanics. It’s about style and facts and physics and history and culture and yeah.)
I linked to that collection back in December as “Clients in the Hot Seat,” but these posts weren’t there yet. Charles is so pleased, and I had such a good time working with him, I wanted to be sure to share this for those of you who might still be wondering what it’s like to work with me. (You can get a feel for how it would be to work with any professional editor, to a point, but keep in mind we all have our own methods, strengths, and weaknesses.)
Fair warning: I’m quickly filling every open slot left on my schedule. Don’t hesitate to ask, but be ready for an “I’m sorry.” If your project is over 80,000 words, I probably won’t have time this year.
And I do mean “this year,” as in 2016. I went from not knowing what I’d be working on after June to ZOMG WAT WAIT in the space of 24 hours last week.
Still, it’s always worth asking.
Editors are not teachers. They might have been teachers prior to becoming editors. They might even teach on the side. But they will not teach writers English. That’s not what editing is.
That’s one of the biggest misconceptions I’ve encountered since I’ve been an editor. I taught English, sure. But I became an editor after that, and I’m an editor. Not a teacher. However, that doesn’t mean that in my work I don’t attempt to impart any useful information. I’d be a pretty awful editor if I didn’t try to explain why I made a certain change, or why I’m not making THIS one but perhaps the writer would like to because whatever. Continue reading “This editor talks about editing.”