The Very Best Editorial Advice Ever

Editors used to scare me. They always seemed like the “gods of publishing,” wielding the power of life or death over my babies, my words.

It’s no coincidence that these celestials use blood-colored ink when making notes or corrections. Even the ones you think of as “friendly” send back your carefully crafted manuscripts drenched in cuts of crimson. “Et tu, Brute?”  So easy to be hard.

If you are blessed, however, early in your career you come across an editor who is not entirely bent on destruction. She takes time to mentor you. Her criticism is actually constructive. She puts you on the path to professionalism and guides your first steps.

A Fortunate Encounter

For me, that editor was Paul Z. I have no idea how or why he had become entrenched editing a monthly in-house magazine for a large corporation, but it was certainly my good fortune to have him as the editor for the first feature article I submitted.

I’ll never forget how Mr. Z called me into his office to discuss the piece I had written. “This isn’t bad,” he told me, red pen poised above my unblemished first page. “But we can make it better.”

Down came the instrument mightier than the sword, slashing away my first paragraph. Then, he flipped to the last page and cut my final paragraph away like a malignant growth.

“Much better,” he said, handing the freshly edited document to me. And by golly, he was absolutely right.

Relearning Composition

Paul then went on to explain how I had to unlearn the way I was taught in school to compose papers. I needed to stop writing an introduction, a main body and a conclusion as my beginning, middle and end.

“Good journalism,” my mentor said, “doesn’t require a warm up or a recap. Just jump right into the story, take it to the end and don’t embellish.”

Wow. My eyes were opened. I had seen the light. I went back and reread some of my previously rejected articles. There it was in black and white—introduction, main body, conclusion. Every single piece could benefit by chopping off its head and tail. What a brilliantly simple solution!

Decades later, I found myself working as the editor for a magazine. I would read features submitted by young writers and see them making exactly the same “mistake.” I did my best to emulate Paul as I passed on his wisdom, which I now share with you.

Next time on the Diary, I’d like to share something even more personal with you. I'm inviting you over to my place. Let’s take a little tour of my home office.

T.A.J.