Digital resources in the Social Sciences and Humanities OpenEdition Our platforms OpenEdition Books OpenEdition Journals Hypotheses Calenda Libraries OpenEdition Freemium Follow us

The Editor’s Hands

There is a café I dream myself to when writing isn’t working. The coffee is fine. What I like is the window. It faces a courtyard where an old woman waters her plants each morning. She touches the leaves as she goes. Not checking for anything. Just touching.

I think about her hands sometimes when I think about editors. What they do with a text. How it’s different from what readers do.

A reader tells you what they received. They are honest, if you’re lucky. They say: I got confused here. I stopped caring there. I didn’t understand who this was for. This is useful. This is data. But a reader leaves and takes their confusion with them. You’re alone again with the draft.

An editor stays.


I had an editor once who read a piece I’d written about my father. It was overwrought. I knew it was overwrought but I didn’t know what else it could be. She didn’t tell me it was overwrought. She asked me about the kitchen. The kitchen in the piece was described in one sentence. She wanted to know what the light was like in that kitchen. What it smelled like in the morning. Whether the chairs scraped when you pulled them out.

I told her. She said: write that.

The next draft was better. Not because she fixed anything. Because she saw something I hadn’t finished seeing.


Feedback tells you where you are. Editing helps you get somewhere.

This is not a small difference. It’s the difference between a mirror and a companion. A mirror shows you your face. A companion walks with you and points at things. Look at that. Have you noticed this. What if you went that way instead.

A good editor is curious about your work in a way that makes you curious about it again. They ask questions you didn’t know to ask. Not because they’re smarter. Because they’re outside. They see the shape of the thing. You’re inside, too close, your nose against the wall. They stand back and say: did you know there’s a door over there?


I think about the old woman with her plants. She’s not checking if they’re healthy. She knows they’re healthy. She grew them. She’s in conversation with them. The touching is part of the growing.

Editing is like that. It’s not assessment. It’s cultivation.


When I teach writing, students want feedback. They want to know if it’s good. They want to know what’s wrong. These are reasonable wants. But they’re not the wants that make writing better.

What makes writing better is someone who sits with your mess and sees something in it you couldn’t see. Someone who asks: what’s this doing here? Not accusingly. Curiously. Someone who says: this sentence—I keep coming back to it. I don’t know why. Do you know why?

And you look at the sentence and you realize you don’t know why either. But now you want to find out.


The best editors I’ve had made me want to write. Not made me feel bad about what I’d written. Made me want to keep going. Made me believe there was something in the draft worth finding.

This is rare. Most feedback makes you want to hide. Most feedback says: here’s what’s wrong. Fix it. The fixing feels like punishment. The draft becomes a problem to be solved rather than a thing to be grown.

But an editor says: there’s something here. I can feel it. It’s not quite visible yet. Let’s find it.

And suddenly the draft is alive again. Suddenly you’re not fixing. You’re discovering.


There’s a scene in a film I love. Two people are cooking together. One is experienced, one is learning. The experienced one doesn’t give instructions. She puts her hand over his hand on the knife and they cut together. The motion transfers. The knowledge moves through touch.

This is what editing feels like when it works. Not instructions from outside. A kind of doing-together. The editor’s hand over yours. The cut becomes possible because you’re not alone in making it.

Feedback is someone watching you cook and telling you the onions are burning. Editing is someone at the stove with you, tasting the broth, saying: more salt, and handing you the salt.


I don’t mean to be harsh on feedback. Feedback has its place. You need to know when things aren’t landing. You need the honest reader who says: I stopped caring on page three. That’s valuable. That’s necessary.

But it’s not sufficient.

Because after the reader leaves, you still have to write. You still have to figure out what page three could be. And for that you need something more than data. You need a kind of faith. Faith that there’s something worth finding. Faith that the mess can become something.

An editor holds that faith for you when you can’t hold it yourself.


The old woman finishes watering. She stands for a moment looking at her plants. Not inspecting. Just looking. The way you look at something you’ve been in relationship with for a long time. Something you know isn’t finished. Something still becoming.

She goes inside. The plants stay in the sun. Growing.


I think the difference is this: feedback is a transaction. You give me writing, I give you reaction. We’re done.

Editing is a relationship. We’re in this together. We’re both trying to find out what this thing wants to be. Neither of us knows yet. But we’re looking. And the looking together changes what we find.


There’s a loneliness to writing. You sit alone. You make choices alone. No one can tell you if the choices are right because no one knows what you’re trying to make. Sometimes you don’t know either.

An editor doesn’t fix the loneliness. But they witness it. They say: I see you in there, trying. And they reach in a hand.

Not to pull you out. To be with you in the dark.

Until slowly, something starts to take shape. Something neither of you made alone.


I went back to the essay about my father. The one my editor asked about the kitchen. I wrote three pages about the light. About the smell of toast. About the scrape of chairs and the particular blue of the gas flame on the stove.

My father was barely in those pages. And yet he was everywhere.

She didn’t tell me to do this. She asked me about a kitchen. I answered.

That’s the difference. Feedback tells you what isn’t working. An editor asks a question that opens a door. You walk through it. What’s on the other side—that was always yours. You just couldn’t see it from where you were standing.

Now you can.

CommResearch, guiding questions to write a prospectus

As you start crafting your prospectus, we invite you to engage with the following guiding questions. These prompts are designed not as a rigid template, but as a scaffold to support your thinking and writing process. They aim to encourage depth of thought and clarity of expression in your research proposal.

Remember, the journey of research is often as illuminating as its destination. These questions are not meant to constrain your creativity or prescribe a single path forward. Rather, they serve as points of reflection, inviting you to explore the nuances of your chosen topic and to articulate your ideas with precision and purpose.

As you consider each section, we encourage you to think critically about how your research might contribute to existing knowledge, challenge prevailing assumptions, or open new avenues of inquiry. At the same time, we ask you to remain open to the possibilities that may emerge as you delve deeper into your subject matter.

Your responses need not be exhaustive or final. Instead, view this as an opportunity to map the contours of your research landscape, identifying both the well-trodden paths and the unexplored territories that lie ahead. Your prospectus is a living document, one that will likely evolve as you progress in your research journey.

With that in mind, we offer the following questions as companions in your intellectual exploration:

Research Question and Objectives:

  • What is your main research question?
  • What are the sub-questions that will help you answer the main question?
  • What are the specific objectives of your research?
  • Why is this research question significant or relevant in your field?

Audience:

  • Who is the primary audience for your research?
  • Are there secondary audiences who might benefit from or be interested in your work?
  • How does your research topic relate to the interests or needs of your intended audience?
  • How will you tailor your writing and presentation to engage your chosen audience effectively?

Brief Literature Review:

  • What are the key theories or concepts relevant to your research question?
  • (Who are the main scholars or researchers in this area?)
  • What are the current debates or gaps in the literature related to your topic?
  • How does your proposed research fit into or contribute to the existing body of knowledge?

Proposed Methodology:

  • What research methods do you plan to use (e.g., qualitative, quantitative, mixed methods)?
  • Why are these methods appropriate for addressing your research question?
  • What specific data collection techniques will you employ (e.g., surveys, interviews, archival research)?
  • How do you plan to analyze your data?
  • What potential challenges do you foresee in your chosen methodology, and how might you address them?

Potential Implications of the Research:

  • How might your research contribute to theoretical understanding in your field?
  • What practical applications could your research have?
  • How might your findings impact policy, practice, or future research in your area?
  • Are there any potential ethical implications or considerations in your research?

Feedback Questions:

  • What aspects of your prospectus do you feel are strongest?
  • Where do you feel you need the most guidance or feedback?
  • Are there specific areas where you’re unsure about your approach or argumentation?
  • What kind of resources or support do you think you’ll need to successfully complete this research?

As you address these prompts, remember that the most compelling research often springs from a place of genuine curiosity and a willingness to grapple with complexity. We look forward to engaging with your ideas and supporting you in this exciting academic endeavor.

CommResearch, learning outcomes

By the end of this course, students will be able to:

  • Develop a well-structured prospectus for a potential thesis topic, including research questions, objectives, and methodology.
  • Identify and articulate the relevance of their research to both academic and broader audiences.
  • Recognize and articulate the potential implications of their research for their field of study and beyond.
  • Employ effective presentation skills to communicate their research ideas clearly and concisely to peers.
  • Provide constructive and thoughtful feedback on peers’ research proposals, demonstrating critical thinking and analytical skills.
  • Incorporate peer feedback to refine and improve their own research proposals.
  • Demonstrate the ability to lead and facilitate academic discussions around research topics.
  • Reflect on their own research process and identify areas for growth and improvement.
  • Articulate the connections between their research interests and potential supervisors’ expertise.
  • Engage in collaborative learning, sharing insights and challenges with peers to collectively enhance understanding of the research process.
  • Articulate how their research contributes to or refines existing knowledge discourses in their field.

CommResearch – commentary for the course

Communicating Research – A collaborative Journey in Thesis development

As you approach the culmination of your master’s studies, the task of crafting a thesis can seem both exhilarating and daunting. This “Communicating Research” colloquium aims to provide a supportive environment where we can collectively navigate the intricacies of developing and articulating your thesis topics.

Our course takes a somewhat unconventional approach. Rather than relying on traditional lectures, we’ve designed a space where peer learning and mutual support take center stage. Here, your insights, critiques, and evolving ideas will form the core of our shared learning experience.

What you might expect from our time together:

  1. Prospectus Development: We’ll dedicate time to exploring and refining your research interests, working towards a thoughtful thesis proposal that reflects your academic passions and goals but is also reader-centered and focused on enriching or refining knowledge discourses.
  2. Peer Review: Through eliciting, giving and receiving feedback, we’ll practice the art of constructive criticism – a skill invaluable not just in academia, but in many aspects of professional life.
  3. Collaborative Sessions: You’ll have the opportunity to work closely with your peers, sharing the challenges and breakthroughs that come with developing a significant research project.
  4. Conversations with Experienced Researchers: We hope to facilitate discussions with graduates and potential supervisors, offering perspectives that might inform your approach to research and writing.
  5. Exploring Supervision Options: We’ll aim to create opportunities for you to connect with potential thesis supervisors, helping you find mentorship that aligns with your research interests.

Our goal is modest but meaningful: to foster an environment where you can develop not just a thesis proposal, but also skills in academic discourse, critical thinking, and research collaboration. We hope that by the semester’s end, you’ll feel more prepared and confident as you move forward with your thesis work.

We invite you to join us in this collective exploration of research and academic writing. While we can’t promise to solve all the challenges of thesis writing, we’re committed to facing them together, learning from each other along the way.