Reading about writing! At 15, I had to admit that this was a revelation to me, too. Like most people, I had assumed that finishing a good piece of writing was largely a matter of luck. Either it turned out right like a soufflé, or it didn’t. But read examples of good sentences? Study models of good writing? As a student I had been forced to do this, but to find out these things had practical uses beyond tormenting children surprised me.
This aside, though, it was only a long time later that I realized the favor he had done me by editing my papers. I mistook his throat clearing at the beginning of those sessions as a not-too-subtle sign of superiority. But now looking back, I know that he was nervous. He wanted me to learn to accept being edited.
If I couldn’t accept that--and gracefully, too--then I wasn’t going to make it as a writer; because everyone who succeeds as a writer gets edited.
You can’t be thin-skinned when a wiser, more experienced writer or editor shows you how to make a sentence stronger, or how to cut the fat from a page. In fact, if you’re really made of sterner stuff, you ought to be able to say “thank you.” Writing is still a profession that is best taught person-to-person; the craft is passed between people. Someone taking the time to give you the benefit of their expertise isn’t (as I thought my father was doing) finding fault with you, or proving that you’re not a good writer. It’s a rite of passage into the profession. Be glad--you’re on your way.
I know a writer who refuses to let a word of his prose be altered. You’ve never heard of him. It’s a shame. His small press books would sell much better if he would.
I also know a best-selling author of Civil War historical novels who recently released his third book. I came up to him at a literary festival and blurted out, “You’re brilliant!” He blushed. “Shucks,” he said, “my editor made me cut out 200 pages.”
But when I was a youngster, this level of understanding about editing as a gift was still far above me while my father patiently, carefully went over my writing with me. Finally, with a groan, I would snatch my “ruined” work from him, retype it in my bedroom and run the mile to school at full speed, arriving a minute or two before the final bell.
Man, I thought the old man was being obnoxious; I thought he was lording his skills over me; I was convinced he thought I was stupid. Why else would he cut my papers to ribbons?
Well, in all my self-absorption and wounded pride, I forgot to say something. And now it’s too late:
Thanks, Dad. Thanks for taking the time to edit my writing.
© Charles J. Shields (May 2007)
Charles J. Shields is the author of Mockingbird: A Portrait of Harper Lee (Henry Holt & Co.), a New York Times bestseller.
