All vocations suffer an identity crisis some time, but the editorial profession today suffers it in its own way. An identity-challenged editor, at a publisher or a newspaper, can be forgiven his waxing confusion over the waning clarity in professional boundaries. He often ruminates and asks himself, “Who am I? What is my work?” One who is a stranger to the publishing business, perhaps a reader, knows not how many people toil to oil the publishing process to put that book in one’s hands. Out of them, the most misery is apportioned to those, excepting the author, that wring the text, and none can carry this ponderous burden if not for their love of the language and its words. Intoxicated by their literary opium, they cannot discern the line where their remit ceases, and thus become sticklers. However, this affliction is only a self-infliction.
The generalist knows less and less about more and more things and a specialist knows more and more about less and less things. Here, the editor must be a generalist and a specialist both, i.e., he must know more and more about more and more things. Happily, the modern publishing has spanned a number of specialist roles for editing. This not only enhances the process but also clarifies the roles and responsibilities. The blurring of boundaries among roles is often due the evolving nature of the profession, and not by design. Consequently, a half a dozen designations have mushroomed. While all these specializations existed, in different forms and names, from when the word was first printed, the clear delineation of the scope and nature of a text doctor’s work is a welcome improvement. Overall, the publishing industry has evolved 4 roles: developmental/substantive editor, content/line editor, copy editor, and proofreader.
A developmental/substantive editor often works with an author, with or without a draft, to develop a concept or an idea. He looks at the larger picture, works with the author closely, gathers and aggregates data, checks facts, decides the book’s organization and format, among others. Although he has an eye for line editing, he is at this stage not focused on lexicon or grammar. Developmental/substantive editing implies a long timeframe of work and collaboration.
A content/line editor edits the manuscript line by line for accuracy and style, but maintains the tone and voice of the author while making the changes. Sitting above copy editors, a content/line editor looks at the overall work for its pace, flow, tone, copyright, plagiarism, etc. He may move or even delete text. A content/line editor = A copy editor on steroids.
A copy editor checks for accurate spelling, grammar, and punctuation as well as consistency in word use such as upper/lower case, spellings of names of people and places, and abbreviations. He also checks images, tables, references, quotes, etc., for accuracy and consistency. He must also check for libelous material. Further, he meticulously cross-checks chapters, index, footnotes, sources, agenda, format, and much more.
A proofreader is the last set of eyes to vet the manuscript. Like a copy editor, he checks for the precision of spelling, grammar, and punctuation. He polishes and fine-tunes the text; corrects obvious and egregious errors; verifies font types and sizes; cross-checks style sheet adherence; evaluates typography et al. He also verifies the material meets the requirements set by the typesetter or web page designer. He evaluates the typesetter’s work for layout, readability, hyphenation, word breaks, orphan words, and so on.
Notice the order of the processes from developmental/substantive editing to proofreading: think of them as sieves of different textures that the manuscript must pass-through. Despite this iterative vetting, errors may filter through. Hence, all editors have the obligation to identify and rectify any types of errors and be flexible and versatile in their approach. Editors may create and use style guides, which makes it easy to remember and follow specifications, e.g., unusual spellings, punctuations, and consistencies. These style sheets are moved from one desk to another; hence, they play a vital role in preserving the fidelity of the manuscript.
By now the reader should have perceived the inevitable overlaps among these roles. How does one know, e.g., a proofreader, where one’s duty ends? A proofreader, the final pair of eyes before the manuscript is sent for typesetting, often cannot restrain his fingers from intruding upon the copy editor’s realm. How can this be effected when the proofreader scopes an improvement that can be gained or even an outright error that must be corrected? Now, the proofreader is verily commingled with a copy editor — he wears both the hats and a few more. Of course, the publishers have only a finite time, cannot afford constant back-and-forth with the manuscript, and themselves wear a special hat called the bean counter hat. The result: a proof editor — he that does both the work of the proofreader and the copy editor. He is, in his role, above a proofreader and below a copy editor, and therefore belongs to the neverland.
Finally, any type of editor must first prospect for the hat he must wear via thorough discussions with the client. Often, the client has only a cloudy outlook on the requirements of his completed or uncompleted manuscript. The client, when probed, offers an effete exposition — “just improve,” “remove errors,” or “check grammar.” Incumbent upon the editor it is to dive deep and surface the stated and unstated needs of the client and his manuscript. Only with this knowledge will the editor be able to triangulate the timeframe, skill level, and breadth and depth of the work as also suitable emoluments. More importantly, the editor now knows the hat he must wear.
