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The Perks and Perils of Editing an Anthology

Posted in What ho!, tagged , , , , , , , , , on September 16, 2025| 2 Comments »

One of the lessons my Guardian Angels have taught me is that when one is overly critical of the task being done by someone else, they ensure that one willy-nilly ends up playing that very role for some time. Being in that person’s shoes (or sandals, if you prefer) helps one to realise exactly where the shoe pinches, literally as well as metaphorically. From being a critic, one turns up being a reluctant admirer of the art and craft of the task at hand. One develops empathy for the party of the other part. Scales fall from one’s eyes. It dawns upon one that the person performing the task in question is perhaps more to be pitied than censured.  

Take the case of a husband who occasionally takes a jaundiced view of the quality of cooking of his spouse. However, after a heated argument, when she decides to go off in a huff to her parents’ house, all hell breaks loose. Regularly gobbling down instant noodles and takeaway food from nearby joints soon loses its charm. Deciding to take the matter into his own hands, he enters the kitchen arena, much like a Roman Gladiator showing up at the Colosseum. Finding the right raw materials and other ingredients in the kitchen becomes a major challenge. Locating either the right pots and pans or an appropriate ladle for whatever is planned to be dished out sounds tougher than overpowering a lion which has been deprived of its quota of vitamins for many days. Sweating profusely while seated on the dining table and trying to put some semi-cooked stuff down the hatch, he starts appreciating the cooking skills of his spouse. The post-cooking clean-up in the kitchen leaves him gasping for breath. Pretty soon, he decides to bury the hatchet and rush off to his in-laws’ place to charm the wife into accompanying him back to their abode. The dove of matrimonial peace restarts flapping its wings at home.

But I digress. After I hung up my corporate boots and decided to become an author, I had come to view editors of all sizes, shapes, and hues with a thinly veiled contempt. Most of them believed in following the dictum that silence conveyed a polite rejection. Even if they were to accept a manuscript for scrutiny, there was seldom a commitment as to when it might crawl up to the top of the pile on their cluttered tables. And yes, I dreaded the day when I would receive their detailed feedback. By then, they would have poked so many holes in the manuscript that it might as well be compared to Swiss cheese. Of course, the most traumatic experience was when I was asked to reduce the word length by close to 30% of what it was. To an author, it is akin to asking someone to perform a delicate surgery on oneself, sans anaesthesia of any kind!                 

However, my Guardian Angels soon decided to intervene and change my perspective. Somehow, I ended up becoming part of a three-member editorial team that has pious intentions of publishing a philosophical tome comprising as many as fifteen essays from as many authors located in different parts of the world.

For me, a voracious reader, it is obviously a pleasure to go through varying perspectives on the same subject. One’s mind opens up, much like a sunflower trying to soak in as much Vitamin D as possible. One’s outlook broadens. Each author’s voice is unique. The frequency, the amplitude, and the tone and tenor of each composition are different. At a casual glance, all these might sound like a cacophony of sorts. But together, they all generate a symphony of sorts, presenting a harmonious blend of the key message of the anthology.

Empathising with Editors

Thus, the task of editing offers quite a few perks. But it also makes one face many challenges in the process. Here is an indicative list of some of these faced by the team so far.

  1. Ensuring that the content of any contribution fits into the overall purpose of the collection.
  2. Maintaining the originality of the author’s voice, while suggesting improvements which would connect the narrative better to the key objective of the anthology.
  3. To improve the readability of a paper, each one needs to be checked and ranked on a hypothetical Richter Scale of Comprehensibility. Those scoring higher than a threshold must be politely advised to tone down the narrative.   
  4. Having patience with contributors who are first-time authors. Supporting them to improve the general flow of the article. Assisting them in connecting disparate sections or paragraphs more smoothly.
  5. Even though all contributions may be in the same language, the sentence construction, the choice of words used, and the way of conveying an idea vary widely. This requires a type of verbal dexterity which could leave one fogged, nonplussed, and perplexed.
  6. Ensuring that a contributor is not trying to promote his/her own business interests through the paper submitted by them. One, that would be unethical. Two, if readers suspect that a commercial motive is embedded in any essay, our own credibility and brand image take a hit.
  7. In case an expert has contributed a paper on a subject which is not understood by any of the members of the editorial team, referring it to a domain expert for a peer review makes eminent sense. Coordinating between the author and the expert helps in bringing about a better balance in the paper.
  8. Since the idea is to deliver a book to our readers which does not leave them fretting and fuming over linguistic bloomers in the manuscript, the services of an external editor need to be hired. In many cases, this may entail a back-and-forth exchange of ideas between the author and the external editor.  If the author has chosen to quote references and mentioned a few weblinks to support the arguments being advanced, a rigorous check of the same could be handled by him/her.
  9. With advances in technology, a basic check to ascertain the AI-infestation level of any essay needs to be considered a sine qua non.   

It transpires that editors need to be made of sterner stuff. Overcoming our prejudices and being impartial does not come easily. A bulldog spirit is essential. Nerves of chilled steel are required for picking up something written by someone else and transforming it into the kind of stuff potential readers would gleefully lap up, much like your pet relishing a slice of fish.

Having undergone an instructive experience of this kind, one may safely conclude that editors are more to be pitied than censured.

In fact, it was this experience that prompted yours truly to publish a detailed blog post earlier, capturing the kind of challenges faced by the owners and editors of journals in the oeuvre of Sir P. G. Wodehouse.

Choosing a Title and Subtitle

Once the manuscript is almost ready, thoughts of the team obviously turned to the challenge of choosing an appropriate title and subtitle for the collection.

The snag we always come up against when deciding upon these can be summed up as an existential dilemma between two vastly different atmospheric levels – the troposphere, closer to the ground realities which are showcased by different articles, and the stratosphere, which denotes the loftier goals with which the anthology was conceptualised, to begin with. This deserves serious thought. Both must be catchy and readily comprehensible. It is something one does not want to go wrong about, because one false step and the whole compendium is sunk. If a lay reader, while searching for something fresh to devour, does not become curious about what a book is all about, and does not get a promise as to what precisely to expect, they could not be blamed for failing to get attracted to the offering. Their short attention span of a few seconds makes them move away to greener pastures. They simply walk out on one.

Thus, if the title represents the loftier goal of the anthology in a rather obtuse manner, the subtitle must hasten to clarify what it is all about and what it promises to deliver.  

So, one needs to put one’s thinking cap on, surf through the internet to locate the titles and subtitles of comparable works, if any, and then make a judicious call. The last thing one wants is to leave one’s public at a loss, simply raising their eyebrows, twiddling their thumbs, and trying to figure out what one is talking about.   

The Challenge of Whipping Up an Introduction

The existential dilemma mentioned above also pervades this aspect of the book. While crafting an introductory chapter to the collection of voices presented in the anthology, a balance needs to be struck between the stratospheric level of the high ideals which the book intends to convey to its readers and the tropospheric real-life situations reflected in the different papers presented therein. Not an easy task! Recalling that sordid experience, one could be forgiven for quivering like an aspen, if you know what I mean.

If one starts describing the contents of different papers in brief, one leaves the audience wondering where the collection is headed. Of course, one does it with the best of intentions, trying to provide a bird’s-eye view of the whole affair. But even the most conscientious readers could be left clueless as to what purpose will be served by their having to trudge through as many as fifteen odd essays, each having a different ‘intellectual density’, with few connecting points between them. They would miss the woods for the trees.  

On the other hand, if one takes too long to capture the beauty of the woods, create an atmosphere, and state the loftier goals which prompted one to curate a delectable collection of so many essays, many readers may simply call it a day and quietly walk out on one.

Perhaps wisdom lies in putting the salient facts as briefly as possible and linking them to the overall purpose of the book, prompting the reader to go ahead and start exploring different chapters, either sequentially or otherwise, one by one. It can be done the other way round as well. In any case, one needs to make sure that while going through the introductory chapter, one minimises the chances of letting readers’ attention wander even for a minute or two. By the time it ends, they need to be left curious enough to start their own journey by exploring the book in detail.   

We have miles to go before we sleep…

Well, finalising the manuscript is only the first 35% of the story. What follows is a far more arduous journey: getting it produced, marketing and promoting it, and the like.

As Robert Frost says: “The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep…”

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The Perks and Perils of Public Speaking

Posted in What ho!, tagged , , , , on September 16, 2024| 2 Comments »

Much like all the mothers on this planet, my mother also thought me intelligent.

However, I suspect I might have become mentally arrested at an early age, dishing out the sort of articles and books which people, not knowing the facts, assume to be the work of a cheerful, if dense, young fellow of about thirty-five.

My readers, God bless their souls, perhaps tell one another that they might do well to lend an ear to what this youngster has to say. Get the aspiring generation’s point of view, and all that. Some of them, unable to contain their enthusiasm, occasionally manage to persuade the authorities to invite me over to their educational institute and share a few words of wisdom.

However, when the day finally dawns, they are in for a rude shock. Contrary to what they imagined, they find a septuagenarian with a stooping back whose bald pate is shining in the overhead lights. When invited, they are aghast at finding him tottering up the stairs to the stage. His face often sports a permanently worried expression, making the onlookers wonder if he happens to be one of the honorary Vice Presidents of the Global Morons’ Association.

A collective gasp of disbelief and disappointment emanates from the audience. Such was indeed the fate of a motley crowd of young ladies on a recent occasion.

Like many authors, I am content to remain in my own bubble of thoughts, ideas and words. Solitude is what I crave.

Public speaking for me is a tortuous experience. I detest the fact that whereas I need to work hard on preparing for a talk, the audience merely needs to troop in, listen to the sagacious wisdom being imparted in a nonchalant manner, often paying more attention to the birds twittering outside the windows of the auditorium. And if the audience were to comprise young ladies who have perfected the art of unnerving the speaker by either staring at the poor fellow, or simply giggling when something serious is being said, you can well imagine the rapidity with which the butterflies inside my abdomen start flapping their wings.

I have had the occasion to study the methods of some of the more popular public speakers. Other than excellent oratorial skills, they possess a quality which is not easy to define. Let me say that they appear to have undergone a crash course in Decision Making Under Uncertainty. They have what I might call the gift of dealing with the Unusual Situation. The staring and giggling technique adopted by my audience, though, queers the pitch.

In the presence of the Unusual, I am rather prone to smile weakly and allow my eyes to protrude. Perhaps, I lack Pluck and Presence. Thus, it proves to be an ordeal which knocks all the stuffing out of me right from the start. I look at the young ladies and find each one staring at me with an unwavering gaze. I blink, then begin picking feebly at my coat sleeve.

Most lectures I get invited to follow a similar blueprint. Somebody gets up and introduces the chairperson and the speaker of the evening. Both amble up the stage. The chairperson on this occasion was built along the lines of Mother Abbess of The Sound of Music fame. She does not croon an invigorating melody like Climb every mountain. Instead, she mumbles a few words designed to cheer up the speaker, to allay his anxiety as to whether the audience is carrying any supplies of rotten eggs, potatoes, and tomatoes which may come in handy in case they do not receive his words of wisdom in the right spirit.

She concludes by making a few sympathetic observations about the subject at hand. Later, while the talk is being delivered, she can be seen making brief notes on a scrap of paper in a studious manner. Later, she uses these to wrap up the proceedings as quickly as the norms of society, the dictates of behavioural sciences and the standards of politeness would allow.

As a distinguished speaker of the evening, I am invariably dressed in an impeccable corporate style. This is merely to mask the inner shivering I happen to be experiencing at the prospect of facing a firing squad comprising close to seventy-odd students. Externally, I exude confidence. Internally, I am all of a twitter. I regret not having been prescient enough to help myself to generous helpings of a strong tissue restorative prior to arriving at the venue to deliver a speech.

True to form, once the introductions are made, an uproarious bout of clapping comes about, and an air of expectancy falls upon the hall. I gulp, mop my brow, and take a tentative sip from the glass of water in front of me. Then, after having fortified myself with a deep breath, I totter forward.

“Well, you know——” I said.

Then it strikes me that this opening lacks the proper formal dignity.

“Ladies——”

A silvery peal of laughter from the front row stops me again.

I then summon all the courage at my command, take another deep breath, and go on to describe at great length what I think of the scandalous way the tyranny of the classroom gets unleashed upon unsuspecting students. I highlight to them the benefits of taking their studies seriously, to be better prepared to face the harsh slings and arrows of life. I even go on to exhort them to get rid of their addiction to smartphones.  

While I try my best to convey a few messages of the serious kind, I also attempt to induct some humour into the otherwise drab, listless, and sombre proceedings. This helps me to sugarcoat the otherwise dull and boring content of my talk.  

The audience upon which my verbosity is getting unleashed listens in a state of polite resignation, often suppressing a yawn or two. With an eye on the wristwatch and a nose trying to detect the faint aroma of snacks and coffee being served outside the lecture hall, it is not difficult to discern that they are merely biding their time, hoping for the ordeal to end soon.

Then comes the time to face the firing squad, so to say. A few in the audience take turns to rise and ask carefully phrased questions which are perhaps meant less to gain a better understanding of the subject but more to impress the faculty members present. When a question gets asked in the pure spirit of proving to the assembled group that the questioner is smarter than the questioned, I decide to assert myself by saying haughtily that I can find her arguments but cannot find her brains.

Occasionally, I need to do a mental foxtrot, sidestep a question of an obnoxious kind, and instead narrate a joke, thereby leaving the audience in a confused yet pleasant frame of mind. I find that it is always a good trick to occasionally lace one’s answers with high-sounding words and complex ideas. One of the golden rules to be followed is that an audience that is bewildered and clueless about what is being said would be less prone to raising penetrating queries.

I consider myself lucky that the meeting has not turned boisterous; had that happened, the audience would surely have had more fun, but yours truly a good deal less.

As the discussion teeters on the edge of chaos, the chairperson swiftly steps in, perhaps noticing that I am just moments away from starting to twiddle my thumbs. She rushes in to conclude the affair, thereby bringing joy and relief all around. As a speaker, I am delighted I had been rescued just in time. I look upon the chair much like a typhoon survivor would look upon the US Marines when they arrive to rescue him from a disastrous situation.

Someone from the institute’s side quickly offers a vote of thanks to all and sundry, lest I might change my mind and go on to depress the audience any further. Mother Abbess hands over a ghastly-looking trophy by way of a token of appreciation and gratitude, duly accompanied by a round of applause from the audience, who are obviously delighted that their trauma is finally over. They rush out to grab the vitamins laid outside the hall, not only to keep their body and souls together but also to overcome the state of depression induced by my talk.

The organisers breathe easy, having saved their reputation as well as the furniture and other items from any damage.

The pleasant surprise is that while gobbling up the refreshments served, some of the eager beavers surround me and question me on several topics of contemporary interest. I confess this works like a soothing balm to an otherwise bruised soul. A gentle glow of inner satisfaction, howsoever transient in nature, suffuses the mortal frame. However, this is not to say that one looks forward to repeating a public speaking appearance in the future.    

Anyhow, it can be safely stated that a smoothly conducted lecture meeting is one of our civilisation’s most delightful indoor games. The speaker gets to build on his brand equity and indirectly promote the inane stuff he keeps dishing out. His ego gets a boost. Surrounded by youthful energy and waves of curiosity, he ends up expanding his canvas of knowledge. If it is instead a congregation of business magnates, his circle of influence gets enlarged. The possibility of landing a consultancy assignment improves.

What is the moral of the story, you might well ask.

Well, accept any such invitation to deliver a lecture at a public forum only at your own risk and peril. Do a cost-benefit analysis before accepting the invitation. Have pluck. Have the capacity to handle the Unusual Situation. Be cautious that such an experience could end up smothering your ego. The poor thing could not be blamed for feeling as if it were getting pummelled with size twelve hobnailed army boots. If the audience comprises young students who might have perfected the art of unnerving speakers by alternately staring and giggling, develop nerves of chilled steel before heading to the venue.

Notes:

  1. Illustration courtesy Suvarna Sanyal.
  2. This article had first appeared on Slo Word: https://www.sloword.com/isbf24-the-perks-and-perils-of-public-speaking-by-ashok-kumar-bhatia.

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