Working late into the night for the last two weekends, we went through what is known in publishing as the "copyediting process."  When you turn in your manuscript to an editor, she gives you notes on how to improve the book, what she thinks should be eliminated, and her overall assessment of the project.  Then you make revisions.  After she reviews the manuscript again, she sends the book to the copyeditor.

Outside of the editor, who is already familiar with your book, this is the first person to read it.  Copyediting is probably the most objective reading you'll ever get before the book gets published and reviewers receive it.

The copyeditor doesn't know you or anything about you. This is the person who is most representative of someone who would pick your book off the shelf at the bookstore, thumb through it, and decide whether or not to buy it.

Your words have to communicate to the copyeditor without benefit of her having heard your voice and gotten to know your personality or wry sense of humor.  It's words on the page, brothers and sisters.  That's all the copyeditor has to reacts to.

So when the editor returns your manuscript with the copyeditor's marks, comments, and queries on it, you have to sit up and listen. And you have to learn what to object to and what to let slide.

The copyeditor has probably called for changes that you rub your forehead over and say, "Why didn't I think of that?" There are other oddities and quirks that she wants changed. Little things that don't really affect the overall flow of the book or story or its central meaning.  These, you usually let slide by.  Then there are the edits that you must object to with reason and logic behind you and not a lot of emotion.

When you finish going through the entire manuscript, word by word, comma by comma, you return it to the editor.  She then decides whether to reverse the things you objected to or stay with what the copyeditor has "suggested."  It's a fine dance that everyone does.

Some editors are easily swayed in the author's direction (probably, most of them); others think they and the copyeditor know best.  So you have to choose your battles wisely throughout the editing and publishing process.  If you don't object too much, you'll be listened to more intently when you do put up a bit of a fuss.

Do you have an objective person who can be your "copyeditor?" Is there someone who doesn't have a personal interest in you or your writing who can read and make comments?  Will you listen to this person and respect his or her input?  Will you discern when to ignore, when to change, and when to fight for your ideas, words, and themes?