This reminds me of the pruning process Jesus often speaks about. Sometimes, things we have spent much time growing, nurturing, cultivating, hanging onto need to be pruned so the rest of us can flourish.
My ex husband was an orchardist. You are absolutely right when you say that it can't just be done willy-nilly, it must be done with care. When my ex would go out to prune the trees, he always took great care to survey the entire tree before he made any cuts. Sometimes, a limb that needed to be pruned wouldn't need to be pruned *right that second,* it could wait for another season or two. Sometimes, the limb just needed to be redirected. Sometimes, it would need to be lopped off, quickly and decisively. But always, always with an eye toward the natural growth habits of the tree and what the tree itself needed. And then, the way he would prune an apple tree would differ greatly from how a plum tree needed to be pruned. If you prune a plum tree how you'd prune an apple, you'd do great damage to the plum. And so on.
I think, whether we are talking orchard trees or creativity or personal habits or writing, the same principles apply. I wouldn't critique a 7th grader's charcoal sketch the same way I would critique a peer professional, but both must be done with love.
I felt a strong sense of sympatico regarding misunderstandings of some ancient traditions. A few of my novels feature people following a neo-Pagan tradition, and I feel an unholy glee when I use a character to correct another character's misunderstanding, mispronunciation, etc. (A favorite example: Halloween is Samhain, which is not pronounced like it looks, and it has nothing to do with evil; rather, it's one of two times in the year when the veil between what was and what is can be experienced as thin enough to allow for communication.) I loved your description of Celtic Christianity (https://sereid.substack.com/p/steeped-in-gods-presence). And syncretism: what a wonderful word, what a wonderful phenomenon!
Dear Sally, a remarkable essay that weave so many wonderful things together, as always. I remember when I wore an editor's hat for a number of years, I, too, agreed I would much rather be editing someone else's work than wordsmithing my own.
I will look at your young client's novel, it sounds like a delightful book.
My brother worked his way through college as a sports reporter for a local newspaper. One night the editor left his office door unlocked, so several reporters went in and red penned everything they could find. Posters, letters, clippings. Everything. Then across the guy’s whiteboard, someone wrote, “In the heart of every frustrated writer is an editor screaming to escape and red-pen the world.”
I honestly look forward to reading your parables. I love them so much and this one really hits home. My wife is my editor and it's funny how we have a very gentle tug-of-war with removing or adding. It's always my ultimate decision but I have found her to be right so often, sometimes I doubt myself when I pushback. Again, this was wonderful, thank you, friend.
A wonderful parable that, I believe, reaches into the mystical and romantic to explain what is a practical real life need in the here and now. We are all going to need to learn to edit for ourselves. Learn what to keep and what to discard, what to prize and what to prune, what is real and what is fake!
I went to a Catholic primary and then Catholic senior school. I remember learning about St Patrick and it was literally just "This guy put all the snakes in a chest and chucked them in the sea and that's why there are no snakes in Ireland." 😂 so simplistic.
This reminds me of the pruning process Jesus often speaks about. Sometimes, things we have spent much time growing, nurturing, cultivating, hanging onto need to be pruned so the rest of us can flourish.
My ex husband was an orchardist. You are absolutely right when you say that it can't just be done willy-nilly, it must be done with care. When my ex would go out to prune the trees, he always took great care to survey the entire tree before he made any cuts. Sometimes, a limb that needed to be pruned wouldn't need to be pruned *right that second,* it could wait for another season or two. Sometimes, the limb just needed to be redirected. Sometimes, it would need to be lopped off, quickly and decisively. But always, always with an eye toward the natural growth habits of the tree and what the tree itself needed. And then, the way he would prune an apple tree would differ greatly from how a plum tree needed to be pruned. If you prune a plum tree how you'd prune an apple, you'd do great damage to the plum. And so on.
I think, whether we are talking orchard trees or creativity or personal habits or writing, the same principles apply. I wouldn't critique a 7th grader's charcoal sketch the same way I would critique a peer professional, but both must be done with love.
Great article!
I felt a strong sense of sympatico regarding misunderstandings of some ancient traditions. A few of my novels feature people following a neo-Pagan tradition, and I feel an unholy glee when I use a character to correct another character's misunderstanding, mispronunciation, etc. (A favorite example: Halloween is Samhain, which is not pronounced like it looks, and it has nothing to do with evil; rather, it's one of two times in the year when the veil between what was and what is can be experienced as thin enough to allow for communication.) I loved your description of Celtic Christianity (https://sereid.substack.com/p/steeped-in-gods-presence). And syncretism: what a wonderful word, what a wonderful phenomenon!
Dear Sally, a remarkable essay that weave so many wonderful things together, as always. I remember when I wore an editor's hat for a number of years, I, too, agreed I would much rather be editing someone else's work than wordsmithing my own.
I will look at your young client's novel, it sounds like a delightful book.
PS I need to talk to you about greenhouses...
My brother worked his way through college as a sports reporter for a local newspaper. One night the editor left his office door unlocked, so several reporters went in and red penned everything they could find. Posters, letters, clippings. Everything. Then across the guy’s whiteboard, someone wrote, “In the heart of every frustrated writer is an editor screaming to escape and red-pen the world.”
I honestly look forward to reading your parables. I love them so much and this one really hits home. My wife is my editor and it's funny how we have a very gentle tug-of-war with removing or adding. It's always my ultimate decision but I have found her to be right so often, sometimes I doubt myself when I pushback. Again, this was wonderful, thank you, friend.
I LOVE editing, and I'm good at it. Finding ways to wordsmith good ideas into concise coherences makes me happy.
A wonderful parable that, I believe, reaches into the mystical and romantic to explain what is a practical real life need in the here and now. We are all going to need to learn to edit for ourselves. Learn what to keep and what to discard, what to prize and what to prune, what is real and what is fake!
I went to a Catholic primary and then Catholic senior school. I remember learning about St Patrick and it was literally just "This guy put all the snakes in a chest and chucked them in the sea and that's why there are no snakes in Ireland." 😂 so simplistic.