Editor Etiquette Starts with You

Editor Etiquette Starts with You

Ruth E. Walker

Last week, I wrote about the role of an editor when working on your manuscript. Editors France Peck and Sherry Hinman shared some ideas on the qualities of an editor that writers should look for.

But what about your role? Do writers have any responsibility in this delicate dance between what you thought you’d written and what the editor discovered?

Yup. And it doesn’t include arguing every little point you think the editor missed or misunderstood. I was once in a critique group with a writer who argued every bit of feedback offered by his colleagues. He felt he was arguing others’ “opinions”. He argued even when those opinions were clearly shared by the majority (“All the characters sound the same in dialogue”; “The pacing is slow in the beginning.”; “Who is the protagonist?”, “What’s at stake for the protagonist?” etc., etc.) No one, apparently, understood his work.

I remember thinking, Oh dear. How will he ever work with an editor? To the best of my knowledge, he hasn’t yet.

Does an editor need to like your manuscript?

Nope. But an editor should understand and support the heart of your manuscript — what you want your manuscript to do, who to reach, etc. A good editor values your intent. And a good editor will let you know if liking your story matters to how they work on it.

Some years ago, I edited a self-help book for men by an American writer. I totally understood his intent and applauded him for it. But in the editing, I discovered that he was quoting some facts and figures that didn’t quite add up. I asked him for his sources. He had none.

So I sent him back to the drawing board and he returned with new facts and figures that did add up. With sources. Reliable sources that offered even better support to his thesis.

I didn’t entirely agree with his thesis. But his heart was in the right place. And I was pleased I could help him enhance his message with solid facts.

Is there any benefit to self-editing if you’re hiring an editor?

So, think of it this way: Would you hand in an essay for marks that you haven’t checked for errors? Of course not. So why would you treat your writing like something that doesn’t really matter? Own your words, writer. And make them the best possible.

There are so many things a writer can do to self-edit a draft manuscript. Here’s a partial list:

  • Use proper manuscript format: double-space, 1-inch margins, pagination
  • Read your work aloud; your ear will catch errors your eyes will often miss
  • Use a ruler to separate sentences for a line-by-line reading; look intensely at each line
  • Try the FIND feature in word processing to look for problem words/phrases; frequent misspellings, typos, etc.
  • Use FIND again to find passive verbs (was/is/were, etc.); replace with active verbs when you can
  • Pay attention to your known “issues”; for me, it’s numbers and I always have to triple check

Why would an editor want to work with you?

Consider my former writing critique colleague. Working well with an editor means you need to actually consider the editor’s notes. Obviously, spelling errors, typos, awkward phrasing — these are clear areas that need fixing. But what about that comment that the spectacular chapter with the choreographed hand-to-hand combat scene is…too long!?! And, in fact, may be unnecessary to the plot. Well, what does that editor know about a great romance with a combat twist anyway?

Step away from the “no” and think for a minute. The editor may have something. Or not.

I had an editor suggest that I had the Canadian army being gassed in WWI too early in the war. I went back to my notes. Nope. My research supported my scene: April 22 – 24,1915. But how I handled it was wrong. I got defensive. Rather like a “know-it-all”, in fact. That editor was hired by an agent to review/recommend my novel. The agent ended up rejecting my manuscript.

Was it because the book wasn’t for her or was it because I was a bit of a jerk with the editor? I’ll never know. But it was something I’ve always remembered and have always worked hard at not reacting to critique but instead, listening, considering and then responding as appropriate.

Good editors are a writer’s gift

I will always thank George Down of The Book Band who edited my novel Living Underground. He was patient with a first-time author, giving me both phone time and endless emails to answer questions or clarify comments. He was encouraging in a quiet and consistent way. And he was so helpful with issues around the German language and culture that helped strengthen my character, Sigmund.

And I will ever be grateful to Peter Carver of Red Deer Press for his wonderful comments on the early draft of my current WIP: The Last Battlewipe. His reading and feedback of my manuscript was part of the first prize I won at the 2014 Muskoka Novel Marathon for my Young Adult novel. Peter’s questions and comments have been a beacon as I’ve worked to make my crazy illogical planet make some kind of sense.

In last week’s post, both Frances Peck and Sherry Hinman noted the importance of the relationship between the writer and editor. By respecting each other’s expertise we create an excellent balance.

When I edit others, I am committed to honouring the words. Technically, I am looking for errors and logic glitches, dropped threads and underdeveloped plots and characters. But emotionally, I’m looking to enhance the words and bring the story’s heart out to where readers can see and feel it too.

It’s only through a relationship with the writer that this editor can get a sense of that heart. And that’s the best part of any editing assignment.

Did You Know?

The first point in self-editing Ruth refers to is proper manuscript format. Is it the same for all manuscripts? Not by a long shot. A manuscript for a poetry collection is not the same as for a non-fiction or fiction manuscript.

Writer’s Digest has a great resource for fiction manuscripts, defining some basic standards. These standards can be applied to non-fiction manuscripts as well. With poetry, the form of the poem is not meant to conform to standard paragraphing, for obvious reasons. But the importance of proofreading and clean copy applies to everyone.

Watch for an upcoming post on manuscript format.

Paging Dr. Edit: Line or copy edit?

Paging Dr. Edit: Line or copy edit?

Ruth E. Walker. When I first started writing, I didn’t know the difference between a line edit and a copy edit. After some workshops and lots of reading, I learned there’s similarity between the two. Which is good to know because not only do I edit my own work, I edit other people’s work.

Both line editing and copyediting skills zero in on how you are using words. When done properly, they both give you helpful notes and editing marks on your manuscript. Check out some of those marks with a free download from Writer’s Digest of 11 Editing Symbols All Writers Should Know.

It’s so easy to miss errors in your own writing. That’s why I’m immensely grateful to have a consistent critique group. Even so, my editor at Seraphim Editions caught things my colleague writers missed. But he commented that mine was a cleaner manuscript than he often sees. Yay critique group! Yay me!

EditingMy editor, George Down at The Book Band, still asked some tough questions and challenged some of my choices. But a good editor is supposed to make you think hard about your work. I was pleased that he didn’t have to spend too much energy on copyediting and line edits. Instead, it was more about substantive editing: he pointed out missed opportunities in the manuscript — areas where I needed important connections, transitions or back story. More on substantive editing in a future post.

So what is the difference between a line edit and copy edit?

A line edit focuses on the creative side of writing: your style, how you use language in each sentence and paragraph. A line edit helps you achieve clear meaning that helps you connect with your reader.

Line edits eliminate unnecessary words, phrases, sentences:

          • weak modifiers (such as: very, really, so)
          • adverbs (such as: suddenly, slowly, allegedly, terribly, utterly)
          • vague references (such as: this, that, those)
          • repetitions (such as: saying the same thing in different ways)
          • clichés (such as: straight as an arrow, dead as a doornail)

Line edits identify weak verbs that could be more active:

• she walked by
becomes
• she sauntered; she ambled, she strode…etc.

Line edits alert you to awkward sentence structure and unnecessary details:

• He looked up into her face above him, for a moment.
becomes
• For just a moment, he looked up at her face.

Look closely at your own work. Is there clarity in how you’ve constructed those sentences? Are you connecting with your reader in the way you intend? Have you avoided tired, overused clichés?binoculars-1015265_640

Copy edits zero in on the technical aspects of all writing:

  • grammar
  • punctuation
  • spelling
  • typos
  • syntax.

Are you correct and consistent in when and where you capitalize words? Have you missed hyphenations, quotation marks or commas?

If you’re writing non-fiction, a copy edit should catch where you don’t have your facts straight. Accuracy and consistency is important for fiction too: If the moon is out in the beginning of the scene, how come it’s snowing at the end of the paragraph?

I have a confession to make.
I cannot keep my editor’s eye on only one kind of edit. If I’m doing a line edit on someone’s manuscript and I notice a typo, I’m going to point it out. I’ve tried to look the other way, but I want the work to be as good as possible, so I mark the error. Similarly, when asked for a copy edit, well, if the sentences are stumbling over clichés and characters are moving through physical impossibilities, I will mark that too.

But my first pass on my own work is to bring a line edit focus. And it should be the same for your work: focus on the craft, on the language you’ve used, on the images you’ve included, on the mood you want to convey. This focus strengthens your creative voice. You are the chef, so help your sentences offer the kind of magic that swallows your reader’s imagination whole.Imagined Book in Paris cemetary

Don’t spend your energy (or editing budget) on just getting the spelling perfect. That won’t matter if your story doesn’t hold anyone’s attention. And it won’t reflect what you want it to: a great story that connects with the imaginations of readers, editors and publishers.

At our Spring Thaw writers’ retreat, we kick off the weekend with a feedback session. Both Gwynn and I receive, in advance, up to ten manuscript pages from the writers attending the retreat. We each review those ten pages and make line and copy edit notes for the writers. And then we meet with them for a one-on-one chat about their work. We love hearing more about each writer’s plans. We talk about plot, about character development, about markets and agents. And sometimes, writers use that one-on-one to discuss an outline or query letter.

I think Gwynn and I enjoy it so much because we have both benefited whenever an editor or mentor met with either of us to comment on our work. It can make all the difference to be able to ask a question and feel safe in doing so.

Dr. Edit has the answers.radiation-33438

If you have any editing questions, why not write to Dr. Edit? The Doctor is always “IN” and ready to take your questions. Send an email to info@writescape.ca with Dr. Edit in the subject line; the Doctor will answer you directly and we’ll feature your questions and our answers in upcoming posts.