Sometimes I wonder whether what I write here really, really sucks. Other times I think it’s OK, and maybe, just maybe, I can do this writing thing. Often I forget that although I tap the keys alone, writing is never a solitary act (unless you’re blogging, but that’s another story, which Kevin Alexander covered in his column in the June Writer’s Digest). It’s a team effort; the most important person after the writer, the editor.
Today I had a personal essay (freshen up on your life writing defintions here) published on why I choose to be a fundamentalist Christian – despite my sexuality. You can read the article here. I hope it gets picked up by some print publications because it affects so many people and my editor and I worked hard to polish the piece.
First draft scored a 10 out of 10 on the lameness meter. I thought it was OK, but my editor shuttled it back with the advice it failed to answer the big questions I’d posed. The straight journalism style – interviews and third person – had the impact of being whipped by a feather.
When redrafted, I had one of those this-may-be-moving-in-the-right-direction-but-maybe-not moments, and sent it unpolished to the editor so he could point the way.
He obliged, and I rewrote it almost from scratch for a third time. That’s the piece which you’ve read if you clicked earlier, or can read if you click here.
A good editor is a blessing to find. In a world where many see themselves as time-poor, the past few months with an editor committed to the craft rather than time management have helped me reawaken my old writing skills.
Due to changes within the company (acquisition of a local print publication), I won’t be working with him once I finish the series of articles he’s already commissioned. I only hope the editor I get to work with on my memoir is as skilled as this editor has been.
In the April issue of 
