I came across the following on a writer's blog in reference to Flogging the Quill.
"I love watching him do simple things like removing redundant words and fine-tuning just a phrase or two here and there. But wow, what a difference!"
:-)
Now that made my day. And it got me to thinking about what you think an editor is and does…and what I think an editor is and does. What are your expectations? Do you even have expectations? What, exactly, will a substantive editor (the kind of work I've been illustrating versus copyediting) do to/with/for your manuscript? For your writing?
First thing is, there's no such thing as "exactly." Um, I think. I
haven't seen how other editors edit. I've worked with a few critique
group members that come close to the depth and intensity of what I do
If you've been following FtQ, you've seen mini-examples that show you what this particular editor does. I'm sure it's not all that dissimilar from others, but I don't know that. The editing you see on the Flog is substantive editing, in contrast to copyediting, which fine-tunes grammar, punctuation, usage, clarity, accuracy, and structure. Substantive editing focuses more on story and the craft of making a story come alive in a reader's mind.
I ask for feedback when an edit is done, and my clients have let me know what has worked for them. And I learn what brought them to seeking an editor to begin with. See if any of this resonates with you:
"I was using friends as editors, all of them people with some knowledge of storytelling-an actress, a business magazine editor, an amateur writer and an English teacher. I thought that would cover the spectrum of problems I might create in my story.
"I did get good comments, but the criticism was not very constructive. All my friends felt there was 'something missing,' or 'something is not working.' While I knew they were right, I didn't know exactly what was bothering us."
Ah, there's the rub.
Yes, I do simple things
"Your critique pinpointed difficulties in the story, but the best part was specific proposals on how to remedy the problems. Your suggestions allowed me to move from where I was stuck and take the story to a higher level."
As important as what an editor does, though, what an editor doesn't do is equally important. I believe an editor MUST remain faithful to your voice, and your story. One client wrote this:
"Some editors try to impose their own style and taste upon a writer's work. Ray doesn't. His job is to make you the best writer you can be."
She's caught two of the things I work hard to do. The first is enhancing your narrative your way, and the second is encouraging, coaching, and teaching.
A caveat: I'll bust my hump to help you make your narrative the best you can write it. I only wish that would guarantee getting an agent or a publisher, but that just ain't so.
Actually, it takes two…
It takes two to make an editor. No writer, no editor. And an editor isn't an authority. Maybe a consultant? Except in areas such as grammar and usage, editors don't proclaim facts, they provide opinions. Although there ought to be some things you can take "on authority" from an editor, such as grammar (and, in storytelling, knowing when to ignore it).
An edit has to make sense to you, the writer, before it can become an edit. That's why, other than self-evident cuts for pace and clarity, I try to offer the rationale behind an edit or a comment regarding the narrative.
Now, it's possible for a writer, just by examining what an editor does with his/her narrative, to deduce principles of craft that can lead to increased prowess as a writer. But how much better if "this doesn't work" is followed by "because…" It's that aspect of my editing (and that of many others, I'm sure) which leads, I think, to something this client wrote:
"You gave me an intensive and comprehensive lesson on writing."
Speaking of expectations...
Perhaps expectation isn't the right word...hope? Anticipation? When we, and this includes me, send our work out, we do so thinking it's pretty okay, if not pretty good. We've edited, rewritten, and polished. Done our best. It looks good to us, a winner ready to face the world. The response we anticipate is acceptance/approval of some kind. How can any agent or editor say anything but "Hey, this is good."?
And yet, as you've seen in the edit posts on FtQ, I've had to disappoint that anticipation with every writer who's sent a sample. Even the exerpt by a published novelist had "soft spots" (to my eye) he wasn't aware of. Why does this happen? It's the usual blindness, created by familiarity and by all the extra meaning that's in a writer's mind as she views her words but isn't on the paper. That's what fresh eyes do, see the narrative for what it is. And isn't.
As one client wrote:
"Your observations on everything from sentence construction to story line showed me where I wasn't doing what I intended."
I'm reminded of a line from The Princess Bride: "Get used to disappointment." It's the nature of the art of storytelling. Or, to quote Roseann Roseanna Danna, Gilda Radner's wonderful character from Saturday Night Live, "There's always somethin'."
Maybe that's the smart expectation when you gaze lovingly at your work (I do that all the time)
As a novelist as well as an editor, I know how hard it is to write an entire bloody novel, and that affects how much care and concern I put into an edit, and how I "talk" to you about what I see. Last quote from a client:
"Ray's critique was honest, encouraging, and straightforward. He does not hold back."
This post has been a brief and singular view of what an editor does. The task is eminently individual, subjective
For what it's worth.
RR
Free edit in exchange for posting permission. You send a sample that you have questions about and of which you'd like an edit. I won't post it without your permission.
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© 2005 Ray Rhamey