Why Listen to Me?

Writers want to know why they ought to take my editing advice. That is a very good question.
There's no school of editing (that I know of). There's no official regulation of editors. No tests to pass. No government agency to please. And no license to edit. Freelance editing can be done by anyone, and writer beware.
I began my “training” as an editor in second grade when I set myself the goal of reading all the books in our grade school library, including YA novels, such as TOM SAWYER, HUCK FINN, as well as all THE FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS and the BOBBSEY TWINS series. I accomplished this goal in one school year, although I admit I did skim the library’s babyish picture books.
When I turned in my reading list in the spring, I received a prize — a babyish picture book, BAMBI. The irony of such a prize did not escape me. My thoughts were: The idiots are in charge, but that is no reason not to keep reading.
Seeing how I had already read all the books in the school, I had to move on to our town library, which was the approximate size of a walk-in closet. Thanks to supplements from the Weekly Reader Book Club (hundreds of titles at 25¢ each) I was able to keep pace with reading a novel a week.
I also paid attention when we studied grammar in school. I was crazy about diagramming sentences. I fell in love with the inner workings of the English language, and I spent long hours reading dictionaries with the same gusto I read novels. This might sound crazy, but it's true.
Luckily, I grew up on a farm near a very small town (population 99) in Nebraska, so there weren’t very many other kids to compare myself to. Otherwise, one of them might’ve wised me up that my behavior was not normal.
Instead, the other kids were glad I grabbed their school essays on the school bus and corrected them before the teacher saw them. I made the marks and then told my classmates to REWRITE. They did.
With this kind of quirky background, one might expect I went directly from my high school graduation to sit at the knee of Eleanor Gould Packard, longtime grammarian for the NEW YORKER magazine. But life isn’t that straightforward. Instead I opted for college where I studied philosophy, figure drawing, and poetry. Then, in supremely logical progression I spent a few years as a house painter, a few more as a gardener, and a few more as a freight handler, before I returned to the world of words by taking a writing class.
Writing somersaulted into working as a freelance editor.
Throughout my life, I have averaged reading a novel or so per week. I wish I had kept a life-list, because I’m sure it would go a few times around the block by now.
I don’t know if any of the above has made me “smart.” But I'm experienced enough to realize the odd direction of my life has given me a position from which to offer relevant feedback to people who write books.
The more I do it, the more I am faced with the reality that each book comes into being in its own way, and no amount of smartness or experience will allow the process of editing to be a sure thing.
I keep reading, so that I know what is out there.
I keep writing, to stay in touch with what it feels like to be a writer.
And I keep working with people who are writing, because they continue teaching me how to be better at this profession that began nipping at my heels when I was seven years old.