Sometimes I Say No
It happens rarely, but sometimes I tell my authors not to publish. Either not at all, or not without significant revision, research, or further reading in an issue.
As an editor, especially a developmental one, I look for what is working in a draft and what we can do with it to make the manuscript stronger and more successful, how we can get it out in the world in its optimal, most exciting, and approachably rigorous form. I come from a position of encouragement.
Or, if you do improv (which I very much don’t), you might think of this as “Yes, and,” where as a performer, you take up suggestions and new cues from your audience or other performers — no matter how outlandish — and then go with them. You come from a position of generosity, exploration, and curiosity.
Yes, this manuscript has promise in these places, and here’s how we can strengthen that. Yes, this is an interesting idea, and with more focus, we can do things with it. Yes, take that idea and run with it for a while, so that we can see where it goes and how we could shape it. Yes, and.
But sometimes that's not possible, and it is to everyone's benefit that something not appear. Sometimes you need to let a project — or a main element of it — go. And that can be the best thing for everyone, scholar-author, readers, and all.
“No.”
So what are the lines, and how can you tell? Here are mine.
Some things are just hard nos. Primarily, and this is not up for debate, is material that is bigoted, racist, trans- and queer-phobic, anti-fat, xenophobic, and otherwise coming from a position of hatred, prejudice, and exclusion. Material that is written to offend or that advocates, in one way or another, for worldviews that denigrate, endanger, harm, or hate groups of people — such as queer and BIPOC populations, as well as other marginalized and oppressed communities. That’s just a huge no.
If you’re reading this post, then I think it’s safe to assume that you are not engaged in these projects (hopefully even working directly against them in one form or another). If this is you, then you should go away now and find a different editor. I am not a person for you, and this not a space for you. This is a space speaking directly against you. So, go away.
Okay, let’s get to the other, more complicated reasons why I might suggest you not publish material. One is practical: if you don’t have time or bandwidth to approach your revisions with success and the nuance that they would require. I might suggest putting it down, either forever or until you do. This is particularly important when the material you are working on could, if not done well and with all the care and rigor you are capable of, impact harmfully. (And most likely, it won’t do your career any good either.)
Some topics we must be extra careful about treating with nuance and accuracy if we put them into the world. Topics that could cause harm if misconveyed at all — to particular peoples and to the author. That an author doesn't intend to do harm doesn't negate the chance of that harm happening, and we could avoid any possibility of that if we choose not to do the thing, or at least not in that form.
It is not ultimately my call, just as it is not ultimately my work. And I’m not always right. But I can do my best to be honest and direct with you, let you know what I see before material goes out in the world and others perhaps see it too. Usually, though, my advice is less “no, not ever” and more “no, not now, or in this form.” Or to extend the tiny improv allusion, maybe more “no, and.”
How could you change a “no” into a “no, and” even eventually a “yes, and”?
“No, but”?
As I’ve mentioned, sometimes that’s not possible or even desirable. But let’s assume that it is, that what is needed for the piece to work (for you and others) is more time — more time for further learning, reflection, synthesis, and nuance.
Maybe you are moving into a new area for you and are trying out new connections or ways to talk across areas.
Maybe it’s a new type of project for you that is requiring you shift into a discipline that has different tools or ways of addressing a familiar topic for you.
Maybe you’re picking up an older interest that you put aside to write that tenure book and want to return to, but scholarship and the field has evolved, perhaps changing standards or loci of focus, and you need to catch up, update your scholarship, for today’s perspectives.
What then? Here are some suggestions.
“No, and.”
Ask colleagues or search Twitter, other social media, field-specific community forums, etc., for sources for further reading, talks, or webinars for greater depth of understanding. You’re a scholar and an expert at research, synthesis, and resource gathering, so you’ve got this.
Create a reading list on that topic and work through it, focusing on what you are struggling to articulate. Perhaps make a list of the main elements your editor or interlocutor flagged and use those as directed learning points. You might have friends or colleagues who would also be interested in learning more and would like to join a reading group with you.
Ask trusted colleagues, especially ones whose work concerns this area, if they would read the piece, or if they would be willing to talk with you about the topic (perhaps to help you develop a focused reading and resources list, maybe from syllabi they use or graduate student exam reading lists they’ve created). That might sound basic, but often the basics are exactly what we need to spend time on so that we have strong foundations for our own thinking and experimentation.
One caveat here: As I’m sure everyone reading this is aware (and probably better than I am), when reaching out to colleagues in that way, it is important to keep in mind the unequal demands made on marginalized faculty, students, and staff for free emotional and intellectual labor, through, among other things, university administration demands, mentoring and admin expectations, and more informal requests to act as spokespeople to others. So let’s not replicate that.
Which brings me to my last suggestion.
Hire a sensitivity reader. Sensitivity readers are professionals trained in reading manuscripts and assessing work from the perspective of marginalized, oppressed, and minority communities to ensure that their experiences and understandings are reflected accurately, with nuance, and in line with best practices. This covers a lot of ground, so it is useful to search out a reader who specializes in the area you are writing in and might be uncertain about. Sensitivity reading responds both at the big picture level and at the level of your writing, so it can be a great tool during revisions, or a guide for writing those revisions.
If you’re in the United States, the Editorial Freelancers Association can be a good place to look for editing professionals of all kinds. You can search their membership directory for sensitivity/authenticity reading. Editors Canada’s directory is another resource, as is NAIWE (the National Association of Independent Writers & Editors), whose directory is here. Each of these associations also runs a job list, where you can post an ad and editors will respond to you, if that is more your style.
Most university presses have lists of trusted freelance editors they work with and can refer you to — from developmental editing to sensitivity reading (and more). If you’re in conversation with a press or a press editor, that could also be a resource for you.
“Yes, and.”
And of course, there’s also me, your developmental editor. I might not be a specialist in the area you are developing — in fact, I won’t be — but I am still here to talk with you, explore your thoughts, and help you shape them into a format and argument that will reflect your ideas, in its best way.
You might find, though, that as your thought has developed and you are moving into a new area, it could make sense for us to find you a different editor. Perhaps one who specializes in your area or comes from the community you are writing about or from. Just as writing is not neutral, neither is editing, and even if I start off as a good fit for you, that could change. Sometimes it really should. And that is a different blog post, to be written.
Even when I say no, it’s with the hope of opening space for more yes. And more yes that is careful, strong, interesting, impactful in a good way and a good reflection of you the scholar at your best. No pressure, though.