Close Encounters with My Editor

I fell in love with my editor the moment I shook his hand. It must have been the way he grasped my hand like the way he holds his pen that made my heart skip a beat-delicate, yet firm enough to stop blood from flowing to my heart.

I tasted my first reprimand from him indirectly through another editor when I received a message saying, "Mads, I love your piece. I think it's hilarious but the chief wants a serious tone. He's an old fogey, you know!" This guy is funny, I thought. My article was about April Fools' Day and he wants me to be serious?

The first time I visited The FREEMAN office, they showed me the editor's desk down the hallway. As I entered a dimly lit room, a voice called out "Welcome to The FREEMAN family!" and he graciously pointed out to the sign on the door that says "Please be nice to your boss, the next one could be worse."

My editor patiently gave me a crash course on Journalism 101 as I received my Press card with a word of caution: "We journalists hold it as something sacred. It opens many doors; it allows you to cross police lines, take photos and talk to people, things not ordinarily enjoyed by others." I now enshrine my Press Card on my altar together with the Virgin Mary.

During our meetings, whenever I open my mouth to say something, my editor would lament on why I always contradict him with my absurd ideas. "What are you?! You know, your way with words leaves me gasping. You are an even better wordsmith than I thought when I told you that you write well. This ride is really exhilarating and scary. Exhilarating because you make me feel in a way I have never felt before. And scary because things seem to speed by I do not know if what I saw was real or just an idea of what I wish was real." For chrissakes! I know I'm different but don't make it too obvious I have three eyes. I just laughed and told him that he just made a pact with the devil who wears tsinelas.

I woke up one morning and decided to be a photojournalist. I took on the challenge of starting out in the opinion section as a person who doesn't even read the editorials. At first, I tried to adapt to a certain tone of writing opinions to a point where I got confused and bored. I noticed most columnists tend to react rather than respond to situations and that is not my style. Who cares if only the editors read my crafted pieces? As long as I live my stories and write from the heart, that is what matters most.

"Maddie, you are too independent. You are a free spirit and a risk-taker. I am scared for you." My dear editor, there is nothing to be afraid of as long as I know my own truth. I may not fit into any mold or category the way you put me but this is what freedom is all about. This one-way ticket I paid for with my life just to experience a world without fear but of love made me appreciate how valuable life is for I am living my dream - not just dreaming of a life!

My editor has his "cute" (as in ku-ti) style as he makes sure everything is in its place every night before he puts the paper to bed. In our lives, editors see to it that we cross our T's or dot our I's however paranoid they may be. In this harsh world, they may be perfectionists or pessimists to a point where they are just realistic enough to guide us from making typo errors in our lives but it doesn't mean that we can stop pursuing our dreams and ideals. Just think of them as your paper-bale-with-rollers in a typewriter.

I am thankful I found a mentor who can be my harshest critique in this field. I learned the value of a good story and the effort it takes for it to be on print. Don't be afraid to love your editor, he just might love you back.

Mon Jeremias d'éditeur, joyeux anniversaire avec aimer toujours!