What we all need is a good editor
- Brett Hiner: A Work in Progress
- August 9, 2021
- 851
Life should be a little bit more like the writing process: think, prewrite, draft, revise/edit and publish. One can easily apply this process to almost any life occurrence. The process allows for thought to be put into something before we reveal it to the world, and that is a pretty important attribute in navigating today’s chaos.
Getting dressed in the morning, dealing with children and having a “discussion” with a spouse would all be better suited following a process that allows time for thought and do-overs. That is why I have always been a fan of editors.
We all need a good editor in our lives. And I am not just talking about the kind of editor who makes our writing better, although that is always good for an English teacher who moonlights as a columnist. I am talking about the kind of person who questions our actions or what we say before we do or say them. They “edit” us so we do not make fools of ourselves, an all-too-common occurrence in the days of social media.
My case in point: in spring 1986, I asked a young woman to our Eighth Grade Jr. High Farewell Dance and was fortunate to have received the box marked “yes” on her lettered reply. It was my first formal and my first date that did not involve me sitting as still as a statue in a movie theater, too nervous to make a move to hold a hand or, more importantly, touch the expensive buttery popcorn.
One must keep in mind that in the mid-‘80s, “Miami Vice” was ruling the Nielsen ratings, and “Duran Duran” was ruling the airwaves, with both heavily influencing fashion trends. I knew my date’s favorite color was pink, so when I headed to a local department store, given the bright pastels popular at the time, finding pink was not a challenge. Thankfully, I have a twin sister who, aside from my parents, served as my first editor.
When I came out of the dressing room in a pink shirt, gray Capezio jazz shoes, made famous by “Duran Duran,” and, wait for it … pink jeans, she was there to tell me how utterly ridiculous I looked.
“You know the movie ‘Pretty in Pink?’” she asked.
“Of course,” I replied.
“Well, that isn’t you.”
Ouch.
In my defense it was not the fluorescent color pink, but rather the pink one finds on an Easter egg when the egg is taken out of the colored dye too soon. And all I was really trying to do was make my date happy. So we settled on the pink shirt with the Don Johnson styled trendy jacket (mind you, not the Armani label), a pair of dockers and, of course, the Capezio shoes. A little older, I could have slipped right into a “Duran Duran” video and none would be the wiser.
Ultimately, I think my sister saved me some deserved ridicule, as she so often did in our youth, and my date and I had a lovely evening saying goodbye to the junior high school we both would not miss. That also was the night we crowned Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark’s “If You Leave” as our song. Because, you know, a song about breaking up, on a first date, makes complete sense to 13-year-olds.
Eventually, those editing needs were joined by many others, both personally and academically. In high school and college, I had splendid teachers, Dr. James Henery and Dr. Hal Foster, who helped shape my professional philosophies and, in so doing, personal ones as well. Mike Plant edits this weekly publication, and me, with a careful eye, allowing his writers to breathe but always focusing on shining a light on the pulse of the area.
The editing job once filled by my twin sister got passed along to my wife, who is always the first to read a column or the first to tell me no in regards to many aspects in life, and more often than not, she is right.
These folks have all helped lead me to the realization that society functions better when we think before we speak, at least if that speaking part is going to be shared with the world or spread across social media.
This is something on which sport blowhards, like the ones criticizing Simone Biles for “quitting” on her team, could use a good education. Too often, they spout off on situations about which they know nothing, writing with supposed expertise when it comes to life on a vault.
My only point of reference when Biles announced she was stepping aside from Olympic events had me thinking back to the same junior high school where that dance was held, and the gym class where we were forced to perform a routine on a balance beam that was only 6 inches off the ground. I failed because it was hard, and that singular experience with gymnastics in no way qualifies me to understand or publish thoughts on what her experience has been.
In its simplest form, the writing process allows us all the time to think and brainstorm, then think and reflect, then think and speak. Maybe if we had more folks willing to follow this process, literally and figuratively, we would see less people wearing pink jeans.