Editing is a tricky business. What I want more than anything is for your book to hum. I want it to be such an engrossing experience that a reader would sooner take a bus than drive, just for a few more moments in your book.
Legendary editor Sol Stein says the writer’s job is to create “conditions that enable pleasure to edify”–to “provide an experience that is superior to the experiences that the reader encounters in everyday life.” All other intentions–expressing oneself, making money, even altruistically relaying information–take a backseat to creating a killer experience.
I often see the potential for a powerful piece. It’s there, but it’s buried or it’s not continuous. Sometimes what’s required is digging work, judicious trimming, sometimes hacking, to bring out the good stuff. Sometimes it’s relocation work, seizing the part that’s going to capture attention, setting it up front, then massaging it all so no one’s the wiser. Sometimes it’s charming work, writing a query that if worded right will prompt the author to compose a story that pulls the whole thing together. Sometimes it’s murderous work, killing a darling that, forgive me, has no business living.
I’m not always the author’s friend, or at least not the kind of friend you ring up when you only want to escape or party. Don’t call me for that. If I’m a friend at all, I’m the one, or by God I try to be, the one you call when you need some help–when you know you’ve made some poor decisions and you want to get back to center. That’s the guy I want to be.
Maybe I’m not your friend so much as your coach, who only becomes a friend for a little while, and not until the championship is in the bag. Until then, I’m going to push you for all you’re worth.
I’ll also sneak away during a family vacation to read your chapter and give you a hand. I’ll communicate via your agent. I’ll spend money for a second and third and fourth opinion when we don’t agree–to make absolutely sure we’ve got the full picture. I’ll come early, stay late, eat lunch at my desk.
Am I perfect? No. Is my judgment flawed? Do I get it wrong sometimes? Yes. But I’ll tell you one thing. You’ll look long and hard before you find someone who cares as much as I do. Don’t for a second doubt that I care. I do.
We’re going to get through this, you and I, and your book will be the better for it. It might even be a piece of art. That’s what I’m after. That is what you have in you.
I do believe you would be a trusted friend, Chad Allen. Thank you for the heart you put into not only your own work, but the works of so many of us writing ones.
I read somewhere – maybe it was in The Subversive Copyeditor – that you should never say anything about an author’s manuscript that you wouldn’t say about his/her baby. Requires some judicious and kind handling, that’s for sure, as well as empathy for the author’s emotions and defensiveness (and, unfortunately, deep investment in what are often the least felicitous aspects of the text). As editors we are wordsmiths, writers, psychologists, readers, rescuers, truth-tellers, hand-holders, and crow-eaters all wrapped up in one happy package (happy because we work for love and not for money – and wouldn’t have it any other way).
Well said, Kirsten!!
This moves me. Thank you for your caring spirit, heart, work. It’s the highest road. We are so
“better together.” “He who rebukes a man will afterward find more favor than he who flatters with the tongue.” (Prov 28:23), right? Onward Chad. We can take it!
Ouch. Yes, the words no author wants to hear “kill your darlings”, but often so necessary. Before I beta for one of my fiction author friends, I always ask, “Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, or do you want my honest opinion.” It’s amazing how many of them say they want honesty, then crumble when they actually hear it.
When it comes to writing, my philosphy is a diamond is nothing until it is cut. I have a hard time convincing people I really want to hear how to improve it. Nothing drives me as crazy as hearing, “It’s great.”
Unless of course, the words, “That’s great is followed up by, “We’d like to publish your book!”
Wow! Hitting right where it hurts. I am a new writer. Well, actually, I have always loved to write but only resumed recently after fulfilling a 24 year stint teaching my children. After completing two manuscripts I sent them into a writing contest. My first venture into that realm. Scared? You bet. Confident? Yep. But only submitting 15 pages left me wondering if I had enough to “seize the part that’s going to capture their attention”? Even my husband said the first one had a slow start. Yet I felt the stories were good, a little different. Hummm… 15 pages.
I am not a college trained literature major, but a former professional child actor, wife and mom. Life happens, and I feel it. I enjoy translating that into the written word. So when the comments came back I cried for a week. Now, agreeing with cherifields, I’ll need to wrestle with my emotional state before reviewing the judges manuscript edits. Even if I never see my manuscripts in a paperback, I will continue to write for the pure pleasure of it. Thanks for the great post.
Oh, yes. Not comfortable stuff, but so powerful. When I’ve sent something to an editor and get a reply, I don’t look at it until my emotional state can handle what’s coming. When I’m helping someone else it’s scary knowing how badly they may take what I do.
Forwarded this on to my husband so he gets a better glimpse into my heart.
Thanks
Chad thank you for saying what we need to hear not what we want to hear that is the mark of a true friend.
Now I’m all jacked up. 🙂