If you are working with an advertising agency, your work will have to pass through the agency team first before their client is allowed to come in and make comments, so expect there to be lots of hurdles towards approval. Depending on his or her contract, you may be obliged to satisfy the director before you even present to the agency.

When it comes to presenting the edit, play your cut down twice in a row without a significant pause in between (unless it’s a longform project, but you get the idea). Your client can’t always absorb everything they see in one screening. Do not make any prefatory comments unless absolutely necessary. You can include mentioning things such as there are placeholder graphics, that the sound mix is rough, or that certain footage is not available yet. But do not say “I could’ve done better,” or that you thought the footage stunk. Do not apologize, make any excuses or be defensive. Remember, you did not write the script nor shoot the footage. You are only the editor. You can do miraculous things sometimes, but then there are other times where you can only go so far with the material you have.

When the client starts asking you questions about the edit, do not take it personally. This is extremely important for a couple reasons. First, you will go insane if everything you make is “flesh of your flesh” because it will be molded into whatever works for the benefit of the project, not you. So get over it. You have nothing to gain by fighting with your client as if what you did is perfect. It’s not. You can always do your version on the side if you want. For now, your goal is to present your work as an extension of your vision, and then to expect that other people – even people who clearly don’t know what they are talking about – will change it. Second, your clients will pick up on your attitude in some way, non-verbally or otherwise, and they will feel uncomfortable. They may feel as though you are stonewalling their responses out of ego rather than being collaborative.

You can defend your work as a representation of an overall concept, but be prepared to explain every shot or technique in terms of that concept. Sometimes people will buy into it, sometimes they won’t. Don’t get hissy about it. It’s their nickel. Let them go with it any way they want, but be mindful of what your job is – You are the advocate on behalf of the footage to communicate a particular message, for a certain purpose, for a particular audience. When the client starts to make comments, you had better take notes. If you don’t take notes and you forget to make a change on something, you will have hell to pay. This creates the appearance that you don’t take the project seriously. While that may be true, it’s unprofessional to be overt about it!

Remember, your client may have lots of political pressure to deliver something that pleases his or her superiors or their client. There could be jobs at stake in this video’s success or failure. Sometimes clients take their video project way more seriously than a reasonable person would, but that is beyond your control and you have to manage around it. Part of doing that is by diligently taking notes and paying close attention to what they say.

When everything has been said by everyone in the room, you should go over all of the points that were agreed upon so that it is clear what is going to be done on the next version and when. I believe, arguably, that it is the producer’s job to take notes and provide emails with summaries of revisions, etc., but I find that some of them don’t, and you must take over this task (or your assistant). When you present revisions, be sure to include a list of all of the changes you made according to the notes you took. Most people will have forgotten what they said by the time they get your new revisions so you should remind them.

If you have multiple versions to present, be sure to label them the same in your bin as you did on the DVD or compressed file. That way, when they say, “I liked number 3A” you actually know which one they are referring to. At some point, you will achieve levels of approval such as agency approval, director’s approval, client approval, etc. Keep track of this by commenting or distinguishing your versions, because everyone is going to also want their personal versions kept aside for their reels too.

When you finally achieve total approval on a particular edit, clear out any other previous version out of your working edits bin so that only the approved version(s) are left. Name them as “Approved” or whatever it takes to make it obvious which one is The One. Then select SAVE!

If you are a freelancer working at someone’s space, you should assume you will pay for your own meals. Some clients will offer to pay, but don’t assume that they will. If they do, don’t order the most expensive thing on the menu (duh!). In fact, order something that will taste decent after it gets cold. Sometimes you will get about as much time to eat as it takes to cram a few bites into your mouth while you press the spacebar with your elbow.

If you are a staff editor and the client is coming to your facility (or if you are the owner), then you always pay for the meals. Supposedly, you built this expense into your estimate, so be generous. Once in a while, a client will offer to pay even when they don’t need to. Let them. It’s a goodwill gesture and a sign of respect.

As bitter as it is to hear sometimes, I have heard clients praise the vitures of other editing companies because of:

• Proximity to favorite restaurants
• Concierge style meal order service
• Real plates and silverware
• Really well organized menu books

Can you imagine losing a bid to another editing company because of … lunch? I can’t say whether this has actually happened, but you need to be mindful of the expectations of your clients. There should be PLENTY of god-awful snacks available at all times, a variety of cold and hot drinks, an excellent menu book, and some quick answers for which places to suggest. How far you want to go to provide “room service quality” meal accommodations is your call, but you cannot go too far.

Editing is one those professions where time seems to evaporate. My favorite metaphor for this is when Elmer Fudd has to make Humphrey Bogart a rabbit stew or something in five minutes… or else. Elmer Fudd shudders, turns and looks at the clock, and the hands on the clock are spinning furiously. As an editor, you are Elmer Fudd. “Times up, shorty. Where’s my rabbit?!”

Whether it is morally right or not, editors are looked upon as slaves to their clients. Ok, that’s a bit extreme, especially since the slavemaster is sometimes the editor him or herself. But there has always seemed to be this sense among clients, producers and directors that once the editor has their material to do their job, they should do it as long and as fast as they can so that everyone can see the first cut as soon as possible. Remember, you are downstream to a whole political and creative tug-of-war story that will prove itself one way or another based on what you put together. While no one will say it outright, the assumption is that your personal time is less important than the needs of their precious project. You got into this gig knowing that there is no such thing as banker’s hours, and you will be rewarded for it, so get over it and get back to work! (Ever see the movie “The Boiler Room”?)

In light of that, there are time management tips that can make it so that you are leaving to go home at 1:00a.m. rather than 3:00a.m. For example, don’t get bogged down with a section if it means losing time to do other easier sections. Sometimes I start with the easiest parts of the program first and work my way around to the difficult parts. OK, a lot of times I do that.

Learn the signs of becoming too tired and ineffective. You need to take breaks and eat. Editing is a game of enduring focus, periods of highly efficient output, and periods where nothing comes to you creatively. Don’t force yourself unless you absolutely have to. Just keep moving forward, even if slowly, and then take time to review your work from the beginning to get a refreshed “distant” point of view. This will often inspire your next ideas.

If you are working by yourself, set a limit for how long you will edit, and stick to it as best you can. You will need to be fresh for the next day, and staying later than you should will only make you less effective the next day.

IMPORTANT: If you are working along side the client or director, be sure to indicate at the outset of your session how late you are able to work and stick to it as best you can for one very important reason: directors and clients will keep you working FOREVER if you let them. DO NOT let them feel as though you are their slave all day and all night. If you do not establish respect for the rest of your life, they will generally take advantage of you. I don’t mean to make it sound like directors and clients are evil because they aren’t. However, some people have a passion for working endlessly, and, arguably, you have to a be bit of a workaholic to succeed in this business, no matter what part of the process you do. If you are like them, then work all night and day.

But my personal experience in this regard has taught me that controlling your workaholic tendancies is a good habit to learn, even if there isn’t anyone else affected by it. Because some day you WILL have other people affected by it, and I have seen enough marriages and personal relationsips fall apart and children missing their parents that I take a firm position against open-ended work habits. Besides, once clients get used to working with you endlessly, it is very hard to change it without frustrating them. The only exception to this would be if you have explicitly committed yourself to staying until the job is done no matter how long it takes. In which case, you had better know what you are getting into.

While churning through editorial ideas, make as many versions as necessary, but above all, stay organized. At the end of the day, keep all of your old “failed” versions in an “NG Edits” folder. This not only reduces clutter but helps when you have to describe to someone over the phone where the current version is and what it is named. Even better, if you are NOT available to reach, someone could easily notice which is the current version and alternates simply by looking at your bins. There’s also another benefit: even though FCP has a project backup system, sometimes you can be caught in a situation where you accidentally delete a version that was good, saved the project, and the most recent backup version doesn’t include the version you just deleted. Sometimes having versions in your “NG Edits” folder can save the day.

Video Demo: Versioning edits so they make sense

Another habit I have is, at the end of the day before I quit and go home, I duplicate the version I last worked on, advance the version number on it, and “NG Edits” the original. For you, this is solely a CYA maneuver so that when you come in the next day with some new marvelous ideas you had while in the shower, you have a backup version of your starting point. Why? Because I have seen it happen where I’ve gone nuts making some drastic revisions on something and then CRASH! I re-open the project and there are no more UNDO levels to recede back to if I decide the revisions were no good. Sure you could open an archived version of the project, but having last night’s edit in your back pocket is a lot easier. Plus, if you are collaborating with anyone else, you should have a record of where you left off before someone else took over.

On a side note, I think it’s worth mentioning that editors sometimes take their editing desk position very personally, meaning that it is a territory they feel should be defending against outside invaders. I understand this completely, especially since the MOST annoying thing in the world for me, as an editor, is being asked to look at someone else’s cut who got access to the footage before I did. Implicit in this is the “commodification” of my skills as merely being the button pusher towards someone else’s idea. (I refuse to look at anyone else’s cut prior to doing my own. You become irreparably poisoned).

Editors, however, work in a world with other people. I believe that other people should respect your position as a creative resource, but that you should permit people to have access to your work so that the discourse can continue. There are degrees of comfort within this idea, and editors span the spectrum from being total partners, sometimes handing over the mouse to a client, to those who literally put physical barriers in the room (i.e., furniture) to keep clients as far away from them as possible.

Back to versioning. As mentioned before, every version you create must have a distinct numerical version associated with it, and I don’t care if it goes up to a million. The goal here is to absolutely, positively prevent confusion and misunderstanding. Even if there is the tiniest change made to a “version 5″ that everyone has seen, for example, you must procede to the next number, “version 6″. The exception to this would be if you had a :30 second spot with an identical alternate version that has a different logo tag or perhaps the word “new”. In this case, I would name a sequence “Tide Unscented-Vers. 6a/New” and “Tide Unscented-Vers. 6b/Non-New”. The basis of this is rooted in what takes place when various people in the project hierarchy serve as gatekeepers to the next level higher among the client structure. If a busy boss client looks at “Tide Unscented-Vers. 6a/New”, then asks to change something innocuous like making a letter capitalized, the next version they receive had better be named something different than what they just saw. They simply cannot keep track of the all the goings-on beneath them to know which version is which, except through some sort of distinction.

An argument that fits into this debate is the idea that a high-level client (sometimes referred to as the “big client” versus an underling, AKA the “little client”) might only want to see a rough cut for the first time as “Version 1″, meaning that as far as versions are concerned, all versions leading up to the client-appropriate version don’t count, literally. I have had producers feel uncomfortable about sending the client a DVD, tape or online video titled, “Tide Unscented-Vers. 16″ as if there were 15 prior version that he/she did not get to view. I understand this. Some clients are like that. I try, however, to emphasize that a number is just a number. The iterations have no substantial basis other than reference to other variations. If you can sell this idea, great. If not, you may have to create an extra column in your Edits bin that “translates” that YOUR version 16 is the CLIENT’S version 1. This is a pain, but I have had to do it.

Another method of versioning pertaining to client review is the “star system” (thank you Tony Siggia, wherever you are). When I was an assistant editor doing TV commercials, the method that was taught to me was that if the rough cut had the editor’s approval, it was named with one star at the end. If it was ad agency approved, it was given two stars; client approved, three stars. This helped the editor and me distinguish which versions are in play and approved to a certain degree. There a myriad of ways you can do something similar via colors or bin column comments, but the basic idea is a sound one.

Last, as I had mentioned before, DO NOT name something “final” or “master” if it is not really final or a master. No exceptions. If something is labeled “final” and then becomes “not final” for some reason, then delete the word “final” from the name. You should always assume that someone else may need to pickup where you left off because of an emergency, or someone may need a dub after hours and will depend on your project organizing skills to prevent confusion.

The rough cut process (also referred to as the “offline edit”, meaning it does not “go out over the air, online”), by nature, lends itself to trying things that might play well in your head, but somehow just don’t work in real life. Try all of those ideas in your head, but if they don’t work, don’t just delete them. Put them in an “NG Edits” folder. Here’s why: I guarantee that if a certain idea popped into your head, it popped into the head of someone else too. Somewhere along the line, if you rejected the “bad idea” for some other solution, someone is going to ask you to show them what it would look like the other way that you thought didn’t work. I swear to you this day, this has happened a bazillion times, and sometimes, shockingly, I have recanted on my original rejection of an idea! Some clients will even go so far as to agree with you when you say, “Oh, I tried that already, but it didn’t really work,” but will insist on seeing it anyway. They may need to see it with their own eyes so that they can describe to their boss why it doesn’t work, too.

Also, the non-linear aspect of editing in FCP will sometimes create constantly shifting landscapes where things assemble well based on a certain set of takes, but as soon as those takes are changed, it changes the relationship to everything else around it. Having previous ideas close at hand can be handy.