The original article can be found on my Medium here.

I was first reached out to about this opportunity from this imprint in late March by an editorial assistant.

After completing some administrative tasks that included signing the contract and finance forms, I was given a copy of the manuscript, along with a generous deadline to deliver the services I offer on my website: “line edits on the PDF itself as well as a 1–2 page outline expanding on some of the comments I’ve made in the text.” I want to make it clear here that I had no issues in my communication with this editorial assistant — everything was clear, prompt, and professional.

I took on this project and handed in my deliverables in late April, on the day of the agreed deadline. This is when things started to get dicey.

A little over an hour after I submitted my feedback to the editorial assistant, I received an email from a senior editor (their supervisor) with the following:

• A message assuming that I was offended by the manuscript and that the wording in my feedback would have to be fixed before it could be sent to the author because it was too harsh (more on this later)

and

• An attached word doc with follow-up questions

This is where I want to make clear that as a general rule, I do not opt for second reads or further back and forth regarding my feedback outside of a couple of quick, one-off questions with all of my clients. I set such expectations as I usually have other clients on deadline and as a freelancer, also to avoid a slippery slope of going back and forth and ultimately providing more work than agreed on the contract (as this has happened in the past with other clients).

In my response email, I clarified these expectations to the editor, while also clarifying that I did not take personal offense to this manuscript. Again for context, I believe that some level of emotional detachment is crucial to being a sensitivity reader, as the bulk of this work requires the reader to be exposed to potential stereotypes and harmful depictions of one’s identity over and over again. I also mentioned that while I claim no control over how this feedback would be given to the author, I did remind the editor that my work cannot be used to shield the final manuscript against criticism, especially in the case where it would be editorialized before reaching the intended audience.

(Sidenote: While I was not offended by the content of the manuscript itself, I did find offense to a comment made by this editor suggesting that one of my pieces of feedback was an “overgeneralization” — again, sensitivity readers give feedback based on our own lived experiences. To critique our lived experiences and the knowledge we have by being part of a community as an “overgeneralization” is pretty insensitive thing to say.)

I then received a response that reiterated that the answers this senior editor wanted were indeed one-off questions I could answer quickly. However, after reviewing their questions once again, I did not agree with this, and I responded by explaining that since additional effort and further research were needed to answer their questions, that I be compensated fairly for my time and effort through a re-negotiation of our earlier contract.

This is also where I actively offered to refer the team to other Japanese sensitivity readers for a second opinion and further expertise.

It became clear to me at this point that what this editor was looking for was not clarification, but rather, easy to implement, and also “foolproof” fixes to large, sweeping, plot-based issues that came to light after receiving my feedback.

And this is when sh*t hit the fan.

The final email from the editor was an anger-fueled, shockingly bizarre mix of criticism about the quality of my work, followed by a barrage of personal attacks that included:

• Insinuations that I was impossibly fighting them for a solution to a plot-based issue that could not be implemented by the publisher for logistical reasons,

• A lack of consideration for the author’s feelings when giving feedback and a disregard for the author’s “creative vision,”

• Going behind their back (…to their editorial assistant, who was listed as my editorial contact in my contract) to clarify some administrative matters,

• An egregious lack of professionalism,

and finally,

• Claims that they were the one who had “found” me (hmmm…so therefore…you can speak to me this way?).

The issue here is twofold — that there still appears to be a fundamental misunderstanding about the roles and responsibilities of a sensitivity reader within the industry, and that this editor’s behavior towards me became wholly unprofessional when they realized that I could not give them what they wanted.

Let’s break it down:

FIRST AND FOREMOST, a sensitivity reader is not an editorial position, but leans more towards a consultancy role. As a sensitivity reader, the expectation is that I am to provide feedback on manuscripts based on my lived experiences as part of a marginalized community.

There is no expectation on my behalf that the publisher of the manuscript will take every single piece of feedback that I give into account when editing a manuscript. This is such a common misunderstanding, that these days, a lot of publishers actually add this to their contract! At the end of the day, my role is to provide as much feedback as I can based on my expertise and lived experience, and hope that this feedback is used by the editorial team to make sure that marginalized communities are represented accurately in manuscripts written by those who may not necessarily have had these lived experiences.

All feedback I give as a sensitivity reader are suggestions, not demands or solutions. I want to emphasize here again that sensitivity readers are primarily cultural consultants that offer critique regarding the accuracy of their experiences depicted in media, not editorial staff that are expected to provide input on the creative direction on the manuscript.

And while I do try to be mindful to provide alternative suggestions when making critiques, these are only exactly what they are — suggestions. It is beyond my expertise and pay grade to find exact solutions to every plot-based issue that is discovered to have occurred due to cultural inaccuracies or insensitivities — that is the job of both the editor and the author after the feedback is given. Crashing out when a sensitivity reader can’t give you these solutions is like someone consulting their lawyer and then yelling at them to fix the issue when they’re told that something that they’re doing is not legal. (As I write this I am realizing that this actually does indeed happen to a lot of lawyers…sorry lawyers).

And on that note, there is a very high chance that even a singular cultural/identity-related inaccuracy can break the whole plot of a book apart. This is why it is crucial that sensitivity reading is done at an early stage of editing and publishing, so that writers, editors, and publishers have ample time to deal with these issues before any hard deadlines.

Finally, I personally believe that all clients are always welcome to seek second opinions if you need more opinions before making a final editorial decision — for obvious reasons, one person cannot speak for the experience of an entire marginalized group or experience.

Some other very important (but not necessarily sensitivity reading-related) lessons from this experience:

Freelancers — This situation is a crucial reminder to always itemize your services in a contract and draw solid boundaries on what you can and cannot do beyond the stipulated agreement. Additional work = additional payment, always.

Publisher, authors, agents, editors — If you have questions or concerns about the quality, style, or tone of the feedback you might be paying for, please normalize asking for a portfolio or samples of work that a sensitivity reader has done in the past! This is a practice done for any other sort of freelance work, and it would spare so much heartache on both ends if clients know exactly what they’re getting into when requesting for my services.

I will note here though, that whenever there’s a controversy in a published work, the first question on everyone’s mind is “where was the sensitivity reader?” While there have been past instances of authors themselves outright rejecting the feedback given by a sensitivity reader, there also appears to be (like in this case) that the feedback given never reaches the author to begin with, or perhaps even changed by editors before it even reaches the author. While this strays from the main point of this open letter, this kind of practice puts authors in unfairly precarious positions, as they are the ones who will bear the brunt of the backlash once the manuscript is published with their name on it.

I also quickly want to touch upon here the treatment of freelancers by larger publishing houses and their imprints. While crashing out via email to anyone should be considered unprofessional, this is also an important reminder that we are not your employees. We are not privy to team dynamics, larger creative visions, and internal expectations and rules for how a project is supposed to be delivered, unless it is clearly communicated to us along with our contracts. We deliver what we can with whatever information is given to us — in this case, I was asked to give honest and fair feedback on a manuscript that indeed did have some cultural inaccuracies.

It is inevitable that some clients are unhappy with what I deliver, no matter how hard and diligently I work on a project. However, in this case, instead of clarifying what kind of feedback the editor had actually wanted from me, they resorted to making personal attacks and unfounded accusations to vent their frustration regarding their dissatisfaction with my work. This kind of behavior is never okay, and will land you on my list of clients to not engage with in the future.

Moving forward

Most of my clients, whether it be authors, publishers, or editors, have stellar professionalism — responsive in their communication, receiving feedback with grace, and sending out payment on time. However, it only takes one bad experience to change everything, and unfortunately, this issue of sensitivity reader abuse is nothing new. Back in 2018, the owner of the original sensitivity reader database withdrew from the project due to multiple incidents of sensitivity readers being subject to harassment and financial mistreatment by authors and publishers. While hurtful and disappointing, this has been yet another opportunity to shine a light onto these issues once again.

On their website, this imprint claims to commit to publishing romance novels starring people of color and written by people of color. It is doubly disappointing that an imprint that promises as much is allowing its employees to behave in such an unprofessional manner to a sensitivity reader (who also happens to be a person of color!) that was hired precisely to make sure that these books represent these communities in the best light possible.

I have reached out to publisher directly, asking for accountability and a commitment to clarify the roles of sensitivity readers in the editorial process and how they are treated in professional communications. This is also where I will ask that you do not try to look for the author of this particular manuscript, as they had nothing to do with this situation. I still wish them all the best in their publishing journey with this manuscript, and that if they would like a copy of the unedited version of my feedback, I would be happy to hand it over to them, free of charge.

Lastly, to all my freelancers and fellow sensitivity readers, my door is always open — while unionizing is a long road ahead, we desperately need a community where we can share these experiences with one another and to provide much-needed support.

Hannah is a sensitivity reader (also known as authenticity reader), mainly for depictions of Japanese/diasporic Japanese American culture, LGBTQIA+ narratives, and representation of a variety of mental health issues.

For any media inquiries, please reach out via email: https://www.soupgirlreads.com/