Why Do Writers Need an Editor?

Yesterday I had an hour and a half phone call with my editor for Magickeepers. This was a follow-up to 4 pages of singles-spaced notes on the book. In a few places on the 'net, lately, writers have been wondering, in essence, about the editor's role. So I thought I would blog about it.

First, I hope no one reading this blog thinks they don't have to polish their work because "an editor" will fix it. Oddly enough a long while back, I was directed to an ongoing debate over on a writer site in which this one guy kept pontificating that it was up to him to have the really great big idea, not to learn where to put commas. My guess is that guy . . . is still unpublished.

Will a misplaced comma sink your chances? No. But 50 misplaced commas in chapter one will. I know anytime I've been asked to read submissions and I see that, I just am frustrated that a writer would so seemingly willfully disregard the basics, or not even have a beta reader or SOMEONE in their writing world to tell them what they're doing wrong grammatically. Same with contest judging when I see some very, very basic elements that are clumsy. Obviously, these writers all think their work deserves to win a contest, which means many writers have serious self-delusion.

An editor, in addition to not being willing to fix 50 misplaced commas and typos, also can't "fix" a "meh" book or a voice that is unoriginal or bland. They can't fix fundamental, core issues that have to do with HOW you write. With your very existence/voice as a writer.

So what the hell ends up in 4 single-spaced pages of notes? Particularly, you might ask, for someone who edits and has edited for a living and has been published before? Well . . . a lot.

My editor is new to me, and we had lunch in Manhattan a while back and I was stuck by how bright he is. I don't think he reads this blog--he's too damn busy--so I am not sucking up. The guy is smart. His notes basically started with "You are a great writer"--no not really, but most editors DO start with something along those lines--"Here's what I like." If you have no idea what's working, it's hard to know what needs fixing. He loves the book.

His notes are then organized in the way he works--first section are story arc issues. These are my big themes, if you will. The WHY, the HOW, the REASONS my hero does what he does. I had left some things unexplained. Part of the storyline involves these rather robber baron magicians racing around the world to reclaim relics lost during the fall of the Romanovs. But I hadn't felt it was important to see just how the relic in question in this book fell into the hands of The Bad Guys. My editor disagreed. In fact--going back to the "You are a great writer paragraph"--what he thinks really works is all the history and the REAL people in time from Czars to magicians to famous authors--who interact with the fictional family. Since he wants even more of what works, the obvious choice would be to show how the relic changed hands through time.

Additionally, the arc notes encompass some "rules" in the book/worldbuilding where it's too subtle yet. I knew I had three books, at least, to play with, but there's a sense of making sure Book I has got a lot of meat to it.

The next section is about worldbuilding--what works, what needs more, more, more because it IS working, so build on it.

Next is the conclusion--went too fast, he felt. After the lengthy phone call, we decided rather than a chase ending, we're going with something more sinister. More of a CHOICE the hero has to make. It's much, much more meaningful (choosing the light vs. choosing the darkness; vs. the choice being out of your hands because of a chase/circumstances). That change was devised during the phone call--which was like brainstorming but more directed.

Everything else was fleshing out certain elements, working on two characters to make them more three-dimensional (they're secondaries, but more could be done with them), and more about pulling in some "reveals" I intended later so that things are clearer for my middle-grade audience.

By the end of the call, I was adding two HUGE key characters, one back story about the hero, and a huge icool item from Book II was being pulled into Book I because it's too darn awesome to save for Book II.

There are a thousand more details and notes I took during the call. But basically, when I look at it all, my editor is helping me go deeper and guiding me to the places where it CAN go deeper without harming story.

Now, why couldn't I do this myself?

I think that's a complicated answer, but it boils down to this. Every draft you take your book deeper, until one day, you must cut the cosmic umbilical cord and let your baby go--to an agent, an editor, to print. Until it goes to print, theoretically, you could improve it. We all can. But the cord gets cut . . . at some point the baby's got to learn to walk on its own. This is the point where a hopefully brilliant outsider, with insights into his list and audience, guides you to the places in that "one more chance" to polish, to add, to push yourself deeper. If you haev written a book where you've said, "I can't do anything more to it"--chances are you haven't had this kind of edit. I now I've given this kind of edit. It's not someone telling you what to do, it's a lot more like pushing you to bare it all on paper. That next level, that other level. And it isn't for cowards, and it isn't for people not willing to be brutally, ruthlessly honest with themselves about their work.

When I got the notes (prior to call), I didn't ONCE feel protective. Everything was going to make the book deeper. And on the call, not ONCE did I react with any "but this is why I did this . . ." or "but this is my story . . ." "but you're not seeing . . . " "but . . ." I didn't feel hurt, sensitive, never used the word "but." Nor did I defend. I DID twice, say, "I was saving that for Book II, here were the hints." In once case, we're leaving it, in the other, I'm getting more obvious.

I do know this kind of editing isn't for wimps. ;-) And it's a process I know I am very lucky to undergo. And to be honest, though I am blogging about this particular set of notes, I have gotten this kind of detail for all my books. However, I do think the YA/middle-grade gets more concerned with the themes. The archetypes.

Thoughts?

Original

I had an incredible ah-ha writing moment yesterday.

You see, I had agreed to judge a writing contest--a fellow blogger over at Teen Fiction Cafe asked me to for the chapter of her RWA. Necessarily, then, I was reading one "first chapter" after another. When you read this way, I think it's a lot easier to notice flaws. It's also a lot easier to notice one that stands out because you're disappointed when the chapter ends. And it's a lot easier to mentally make comparisons between writers. Now I at least understand why some agents, and RWA chapters, and blog sites have contests for first paragraphs or first pages or whatever.

I was given a score sheet, and after I finished each first chapter, I had to score 20 different areas on a scale of 1-5 and then tally. Surprisingly (to me at least) the winner that emerged wasn't the one I would have kept reading--because it's not the type of book I would pick personally. But that actually showed me that I was being objective (as objective as possible given, of course, that I am a subjective human being, as we all are). If I had to give the authors a score of 1-5 on, say "Is the premise sufficient to sustain the length of the book?" and 19 other areas, and the author who won consistently scored higher even if it's not something I would read, then "objectively" (or at least as objectively as "judging" writers can be) she won.

But my real ah-ha moment was in understanding why so many writers with SUCH fierce talent struggle to get published. Because in some entries, I as an editor could see "Wow . . . talent!" The voice was there, it was polished, the details were vivid, the dialogue funny. But though the characters were engaging, they were just another variation on a thousand books before it--the city girl out of place in the country, the bad boy on a motorcycle, the Jane Austen-esque historical, the Manolo-clad heroine, the mother too busy for her own daughter, the . . . You get the idea.

Now bear with me for the ah-ha. Contest judging is VERY MUCH like being an editor or agent. Think about it. While you MIGHT read an entire book, most of the time, you are giving a writer two or three chapters--maybe even just one--to engage you. So necessarily, you, or your assistant, are reading first chapters after first chapters looking--and hoping--for the one that makes you tingle. The one that makes you pause--THIS is original, this is FRESH, this is high-concept.

We all know everything's been done before. But the task is to make your "what's been done before" sound totally original.

I talked to my new editor yesterday. I am SO excited about my new deal--a spring 2009 release. And I can tell you . . . in all honesty, you have NEVER heard of a story like this before. Yeah, there are a couple of familiar things. A distant father, for example. But nothing like it that I've ver heard of. And that made me excited, and I can't wait to announce it.

And so, I get it. Why you have to approach editors with something new. I saw talent in the contest, I really, really did. But to compete, you need something original. This is something we all need to keep in mind. Because as we compete in the greatest "First Chapter" contest ever--trying to get published--the competition is fierce.

Thoughts?