I have found myself Googling the role of an editor more frequently than I used to.So much so Google has it saved in its history.
I have read the definition so many times it is ingrained in my memory. It places itself so calmly and so abruptly on my screen that I can’t ignore it. And I become both disappointed and ashamed.
‘A person who is in charge of and determines the final content of a newspaper, magazine, or multi-author book’.
A person who has the ability to change writing without asking. They are able to change your notions and your ideas without a thought to the consequences.
But recently my own editor has gone a step to far. They have undermined my writing and the seriousness of my pieces. They have reduced my writing to a mere joke.
Edits on minuscule topics I could handle. Those articles that don’t really mean anything that are just fads to get views; I can handle them changing those. But when they change a piece to undermine and disrespect the community I have written about, that is when I become ashamed to have chosen to write for such a place.
But then I suppose that the trials of a student tabloid.