Member-only story
From A Writer To An Editor
A short rant by Kaitlyn
Recently, I submitted an article outside of medium, and when I received it back from the editor, he might as well have ripped my heart out, stepped on it, and set it on fire. That would have been less painful. Momentous paragraphs were missing, the story was clumsy, like I was trying to find missing pieces to a puzzle, and even worse, it didn’t sound authentic.
My voice wasn’t there. His was.
Saying I was furious is an understatement. Hell, I still am. If you have an ego bigger than your vocabulary, then why are you calling yourself an editor? That’s like me, a city girl, calling myself a farmer.
This piece isn’t me trying to be belittling or declaring I’m better than all you editors out there because I’m not. That’s not my intention at all. I have a lot of work to do on my writing, and I’m fully aware of that. I listen to what you have to say—to your critique—and most times, I change what you tell me to change, but if you’re going to work against me instead of WITH me, I’m going to slam the proverbial door in your face and say good day.
I don’t appreciate the story I poured blood, sweat, and tears into being torn to shreds when a simple note would suffice, or even better, a clear line of…
