When we remember that it – writing – is a gift, we begin to recognize the tip of its potential. How it is a flashlight, how it is available in our bag of tools, with ever-lasting power. To use it is to shine a light, to guide us, you, yes you, through that maze.
A writer is very close to their work. What may appear to be an error to the editor, may go unnoticed in the eyes of the author. That is the difference between a writer and an editor. A little tough love here and there from the editor is only to bring out the best in the writer.
If the author is the mother giving birth, I am the midwife making sure that the baby comes into this world safe and sound. Each work of creation is different, and comes into this world through a different passage. Having worked with lots of writers and writing styles, I know that it's a different experience each time. No two births are ever the same.
To authors, a book is a precious baby that they’ve nurtured and brought into this world. But giving birth is almost never a solitary process. The editor is the midwife – the one that stands by the author and pushes the writer as they labour through the long hours before the baby is finally born.
Motherhood awakens the creative spark and is powerful enough to light all of humankind. It grants one the divine pleasure of procreation. But it doesn't necessarily have to be a baby. One can be the mother of an idea, a scientific invention, a novel, a design, music, a painting, an art form—anything. And the euphoria of the creation would be same. For human beings always have this burning desire to create—whatever it may be and however small or grand.