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It’s Tough Being an Editor

Why I almost quit

I launched Bouncin’ and Behavin’ Poems almost two years ago. My eldest son had terminal cancer, and writing poetry was my way of coping. Shortly after publishing my poetry, I was approached by one of the big online poetry pubs, and I started sharing my work there.

Although I was flattered to have been invited to publish there, I soon became dissatisfied. The editor only posted private notes when unsure about the image copyright, and they’d post the occasional off-the-shelf compliment. It felt as though I was engaging with AI. I wanted to set up a more human publication where writers could be assured their work was being considered and edited by a person.

Things picked up very quickly, and the poems and poets came in at pace. It was scary at first because I don’t claim to be any better than anyone else at poetry and don’t even consider myself a poet; I am primarily a ghostwriter and editor of non-fiction books.

It’s been almost two years, and I have made many friends and learnt lots of lessons. You only have to see how messy the submission guidelines have become to see how rapidly I have been reacting to change. Note to self: publish a new set of simpler guidelines!

There’s No Money in Running a Pub

I don’t know what the perception is amongst writers on Medium, and I can’t speak for other pubs, but I don’t make a penny/dime from running Bouncin’ and Behavin’ Poems or my other pub, Bouncin’ and Behavin’ Short Stories. If you’ve submitted work in either of these publications, you will know that I check every word of every submission, paying attention to details and flagging potential issues. No one pays me to do this. There are no paywalls in my pubs, no ‘in-pub purchases’ or chargeable services. It’s all done out of love.

Last year, when things got hectic, I was spending up to two hours a day checking the work coming in, and I was feeling burnt out, so I took on a couple of co-editors for my poetry pub. Ironically, since then, things have become less busy. All the same, I am extremely grateful to have Karen Marie Shelton and Suzy Jacobson Cherry on board. Karen hasn’t needed to chip in yet as Suzy has been handling anything I have missed. Thanks very much to both of you.

Risks of the Role

Being an editor carries the risk of rubbing people up the wrong way. There’s no escaping that. Some people don’t like guidelines. They see it as a barrier to free creative expression. Others are naturally rebellious. My approach is to be as matter-of-fact and humble as I can.

If I believe there’s a typo or grammatical error, I will flag it, and I prompt the writer to consider whether the issue was intentional or the result of a lapse in concentration. I look out for inconsistencies, words, and phrases that are unclear, and I sometimes ask for formatting or other changes to conform to house style.

Bottom line — I care about the publication. I care about standards. I care about the authors who submit. And as I said from the beginning, no one is judged and everyone is welcome. Even if I suggest a change, I don’t pretend to be better or more knowledgeable than anyone else. It is much easier to edit other people’s work than our own because we have that distance, that objectivity.

I am a person of integrity, and I treat every single writer the same. When I am editing a piece, it is a case of data in/data out. I read the words on the page and it doesn’t matter who has written them. It is about putting their work through checks and balances before it is published. I will come back to this point.

Note: However gentle and diplomatic I try to be, I accept that some people might find my suggestions annoying, or they may think I am arrogant, patronising, or condescending. These are the risks of the job.

Others may also project things onto me unfairly — that I want to power-trip as a gatekeeper, for example, which couldn’t be further from the truth. My friends Jason Provencio and Suzy Jacobson Cherry both know how much I care about the pubs and the writers. Instead of seeing me as someone who considers themselves a ‘high and mighty editor’, imagine a person who stresses over how quickly they can process submissions because they feel a massive responsibility to serve.

I am here to serve, and I don’t expect to be paid for it. THIS isn’t what I do for a living, and it never will be. I am here to serve!

Writers Come in Many Shapes and Sizes

Creative people, let alone writers, are often quirky. I am an introvert who can perform well as an extrovert but an introvert all the same — a very sensitive one with perfectionist tendencies. Many of us are neurodiverse — adapting to autism, ADHD, trauma recovery, or other issues. I can only do my best to treat others as I want to be treated. Sometimes, I am going to offend or irritate regardless of my approach or communication style. Other times, I won’t have any idea how I am making the other person feel unless they tell me.

Meltdown

Yesterday, an author I have been interacting with for at least eighteen months, one whom I have a lot of respect and admiration for as a writer — they have written some exceptional poetry since I have known them — suddenly and unexpectedly laid into me after I had offered an editing suggestion.

The issue started when I offered some feedback on the opening of a short story. They said they didn’t understand what I was asking them to do, so I offered more specific guidance, by suggesting which sentence to replace and what to replace it with. That’s when they exploded.

They told me my way of communicating was unacceptable and asked if I spoke to everyone like that. Yes, I said, and I reminded them that this was how I had always interacted with everyone, including them since the publication started. They said I was consistently ‘belittling’ and ‘infantilising’ them, and that I was sexist.

I have worked with many female authors since I launched my poetry publication, and I have never been accused of being sexist. My editing interactions take place through private notes, so how can this person conclude that the way I interact with them has anything to do with their gender? They have no other interactions to compare theirs with. I never refer to gender in my conversations with authors, I make no effort to make off-medium friendships (i.e. move things to WhatsApp, for example), and I don’t flirt with anyone. If anything, I could be accused of being a bit distant, although I have built a rapport with many writers.

This writer said I was condescending and patronising, and I accept that. Being perceived that way is a risk that goes with the territory, but for them to put two and two together and make five and jump to the conclusion that I was treating them differently because of their gender was not only mistaken, it was unfair. And I found it threatening.

Put yourself in the shoes of an editor. Our interactions with writers are behind closed doors, through private messages. To have someone, who has openly talked about being neurodiverse and other issues, calling me a sexist left me feeling vulnerable.

I explained that given what they were saying to me and the fact that I am the sole editor for the short story publication, I wouldn’t be able to accept any more of their work — clearly it would be better for us not to interact anymore. However, I invited them to continue submitting poetry to the poetry publication and assured them that in the future, their work would be processed by Suzy.

The author deleted their profile.

Aftermath

I feel very concerned about the mental health of the author. They could have unfollowed me, left my pubs, or even written an article about what an awful human being I am. Deleting their account was a drastic measure.

Only a couple of days earlier, the author had told me in a public comment how much they appreciated me accepting their work and providing a platform they felt comfortable with. A few weeks ago, I sensed that they were being rude and snappy with me, and I asked them whether there was an issue I was unaware of. They said they were having a rough day. More recently, they told me how their autism affected their communication style. What I am getting at here is that throughout our working relationship, I have always tried to be sensitive to their needs. If they asked me to explain an editing suggestion another way, I would, and sometimes I would provide a fix if they couldn’t.

Yesterday, when they said that they had ‘repeatedly’ flagged this issue of me apparently belittling and infantilising them in a condescending and patronising way, I was totally non-plussed. No such conversations have EVER happened.

I believe that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that person experienced some kind of breakdown/meltdown during our interaction. I also believe that they were projecting someone else onto me. The exchange was surreal enough for me to think they were having a psychotic experience. They became someone I had never interacted with before, and I certainly was not and never have been the person they were saying I was.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

The episode left me in a state of shock. I had/have so many other plates to spin. My PC kept crashing (Blue Screen of Death), I have multiple book projects to deal with, I committed to extra part-time work (in a dentist’s office!) when I was paranoid that my book-related work might dry up, and there are other financial pressures. None of that stops me from focusing on my responsibility to run the poetry and short story pubs. However, what I don’t deserve — what NO EDITOR deserves — is to be randomly attacked by the people I serve.

As publishers, we are responsible for everything that goes out in our publications. If someone infringes copyright, WE can be sued. The longer a publication runs, the more images that are published, and the greater the chance that one day, someone will slap a pub owner with a breach-of-copyright payment demand. That’s scary.

To run the risk of being accused of discriminating against people or being sexist makes the job even less appealing.

I will be honest. I wanted to quit yesterday. The situation felt so horrible that I almost deleted the publications. I slipped into panic mode. There were no warning signs. One second, I was editing a piece, the next moment, it felt as though I had been beamed into chaos.

Knowing that Jason has his hands full, I asked Suzy if she wanted the pubs. She persuaded me to take a step back, take a break, and maybe talk about how I was feeling. So, here I am, talking about how I am feeling.

If any of the authors who have worked with me fancy dropping some words of support in the comments, I could sure appreciate them today.

Thanks for reading.