In literature, there are hero archetypes: the Reluctant, Han Solo from Star Wars; the Lover, Prince Charming; the Proto-Feminist, Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games; the Anti-Hero, Peter Griffin from Family Guy.

In publishing, there are other heroes, although the majority of the public perceives them to be sidekicks: the commissioning editors armed with phones, the editorial assistants cloaked in calendars, the line and copy editors caped in red ink. Much of publishing is closet-work: behind-the-scenes phoning and conferencing and deleting and adding. And sometimes it can all be disheartening.

Speaking for line and copy editors, it can be especially trying because it's like garnishing a chef's creation – not too much and not too little – for everyone else's satisfaction. It's like being the coach to an already-professional athlete – sometimes people are skeptical, perfecting an almost-perfect thing. It's like tuning a piano for a pianist who has been polishing the instrument with years of grace.

But for some reason, line and copy editors keep returning as the "sidekicks," perhaps it's because they are able to assume the role of "hero," just quietly.

They are borderline Unbalanced, especially on the days when the papers pile as if creating a new Alps. Copy editors are the Denied, for their attachment to grammar is labeled as an "essential otherness"; they must be the grammatical heroes, Defiant ones, although so many shun them as Nazis.

All the while being Unbalanced and Denied and Defiant, the editors stay true as Lovers. The final copy is the line editors' saving grace; the published work is the completion of the grammatical grail quest that others have trivialized as a fool's errand. However, the heroes must tread carefully because they are also Apocalyptic: no world ends like at the hands of a belligerent author.

And, ultimately, line and copy editors will proudly be Scapegoats because, through all the garnishing and coaching and tuning and questing, nothing is as satisfactory as being some type of their own hero.