Zen and the Art of Editing

from Chel Avery th and 16^th editions of the Chicago Manual of Style.) But apart from tedious arguments about “that” vs. “which,” this labor has been a deeply joyful ministry for me. It has been a delight to work, time and again, with someone who has a message, helping that person to hone the message into a form that will speak to readers today and for years to come. Not every person who has something important to say is a natural writer, and even people with a real gift for writing often value the collaboration of a fresh viewpoint to help focus the message for the special readership of this pamphlet series. This was the field where I was privileged to play. Frequently, at the beginning of a project, I would find myself unenthusiastic about a manuscript. I would approach it as a duty. But in time, working closely with the author, sinking down into the words and the spaces between the words, to the fiber of the message, I would fall in love with the essay. This happened again and again. That is a moment to treasure and be very wary of. Delightful as it is to love the manuscript I am working on, there is a danger as well―the temptation to hijack the message, to run forward with my own interpretations and associations, my own way of putting it into words. The more I loved a manuscript, the more I had to remind myself that my job was to help clarify the author’s voice, not to insert my own. Every relationship with an author began with a letter that included the boundaries. Where does the author get “last say” (message and content) and where do I get “last say” (grammar, punctuation, etc.). But one of my great satisfactions is that over the course of 35 pamphlets, I never played my “last say” card, and only a couple times did authors use theirs. When there is a wording problem, there is almost always a better way to say it than either the author or I originally imagined. And one of us always discovered it. An editor serves multiple masters, and sometimes the demands of those different masters conflict. (Although, it’s remarkable how often they coincide.) There is of course the author―the editor serves the author’s purpose, helping to shape the message as effectively as possible for the author’s goals. Another master is the publisher―Pendle Hill has its own ministry, of which the pamphlet series is an expression. Pendle Hill’s goals for the pamphlets have always been present in the back of my mind. Third, I serve the reader. At this stage the reader has no other advocate, and my job is to keep him or her in mind at all times―what will make sense? What will be most clear, inspiring, or interesting to the reader? The fourth master, finally, is Truth. I’m not talking about accuracy, although that is a concern, and I’m not talking about “my truth”―I believe it is possible to serve a higher truth, even when working on a manuscript I disagree with. Are quotations and references cited with integrity? Are stories involving other people told with compassion and fairness? Is the language an honest expression of what the author really believes? Is it genuine and real, and does the spirit behind the message shine through? Copyediting this series has been a joy, occasionally a frustration, a discipline, and an opportunity for much growth and delight. But a time comes to let go, and this is that time. As I need to direct my time and energy to other places, I pass off this role with pride and affection. In honor of these past six years, I present my own preferred list of the seven best Pendle Hill pamphlets on Friends testimonies and social witness. I edited some, but not all of them. Most of them come with discussion questions for groups. Answering the Violence: Encounters with Perpetrators by John Lampen explores the implications for peace workers who develop relationships with perpetrators of violence (those called dictators or terrorists). What are the risks of such relationships and what part do they play in efforts to build peace in troubled situations? The author writes thoughtfully from his own work in Northern Ireland and elsewhere and draws on the experiences of others. The Testimony of Integrity in the Religious Society of Friends, by Wilmer Cooper. Today, when Friends name our central testimonies, integrity is usually one of them. But when this pamphlet was published in 1991, that was not usually the case. Wilmer Cooper resurrected this multi-layered testimony, buried at the roots of all the others, and restored it to center stage. Quaker Witness as Sacrament by Dan Snyder. Many Friends find themselves pulled in opposite directions, between the inward life of the spirit and a life of witness and action in the outer world. Snyder considers this tension a false duality. He explores the relationship between prayer and contemplation as forms of “inward activism” and social witness as a form of “outward prayer.” Answering the Call to Heal the World by Patricia Schenck. In a world filled with vast needs, how do we decide where to dedicate our time and energy? Pat Schenck walks us through the life of a leading: hearing a call, testing our discernment, overcoming the obstacles to faithfulness, finding the support we need, and finally recognizing when our work is done. Finding the Taproot of Simplicity by Fran Taber was originally a chapter in a now out-of-print anthology. I take much pride in having suggested to Pendle Hill that we ask for an updated version to publish as a pamphlet. It is one of the finest pieces I have ever seen on the spiritual basis of the testimony of simplicity. An Art of Small Resurrections: Surviving the Texas Death Chamber by Walter Long. Working on this essay moved me deeply. The author is a lawyer assisting death row inmates in Texas. He explores how executions can be so widely accepted in a state where most citizens identify themselves as followers of Jesus. These questions lead him to reflect on the crucifixion of Christ and our understanding of atonement. &nbsp