I am here to rain cats and dogs of gratitude upon my intrepid wisewoman editor, Ms. Sarah Pridgeon, who maintains we cannot edit ourselves. Full disclosure here; I am in the habit of writing a first draft of an essay, to revise a day or two later, just as I was taught by a patient ninth-grade English teacher. Patient,for the most part. The woman once suffered a teary melt-down in class upon handing back an assignment which apparently had been dashed off with no obvious second or third look. The episode could have been recreated in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Of course, I felt badly for her, standing before us, bereft and clearly at wit’s end. Fortunately, I was not one of the miscreants. This said, second or third drafts (and beyond) are a form of editing, granted, and more, they allow the writer to rethink, remember, and/or reconsider an assertion, forgotten word, or sentence structure.)
Having recently purchased our county newspaper (for which she has worked tirelessly and devotedly for several years), Sarah has made time to dig into my manuscript—this last book in my Riven Country series. A labor of love for her, I think it must be, as she has undoubtedly “found work,” as they say, as publisher, editor, and reporter for the newspaper. A delightful and welcome bit of levity in a column about her British roots, including contrasts uncovered in her adopted country, alas, has had to be sidelined in light of her new duties.
After a necessary period to concentrate her formidable efforts on her and her husband’s new adventure, Sarah was recently able to take a look at my work. Learning much from that eagle eye, she reminds me (yet again) about comma placement, dashes, capitalization, and clarity. During the hiatus, I worked on short pieces—exercising a need to write. Like daily walks, I find the practice helpful in regulating my nervous system and my own occasional melt-down—mostly due to national and international chaos, disregard for incipient climate change, and societal blindness on several levels. “What ails thee?” asks Percival. “Hold my beer,” replies the Fisher King in each of us, while the healing lies in tenderly posing the question.
Certain podcasts offer solace, like champions of our states of mind. I find 10 % Happier with Dan Harris and Tara Brach encouraging. Sessions with a therapist help me formulate new synaptic pathways. Editors all, we are gently persuaded to peer closely into our hearts, and to improve our lot, be it a heartfelt endeavor, our circumstances, or confusion around options. But the most important thing I have discovered in this journey is to remember to be grateful. For all of it, I am grateful. Are we in a time of editing? Vive les éditrices!
Braeburn Croft 