Editing the Editor

Since I'd been an editor for so many years before becoming a novelist I'd seen one side of the publishing coin. I'd become accustomed to phrasing critiques with the most positive spin, looking for the author's core objective and trying to maintain that during the editing process, all the while emphasizing that the author is always in charge. With every author I stress, "Your name is on the cover; you need to be thrilled with the final product. You carry the vision for this work. You know these characters better than I do--since you've lived with them so much longer." Authors often come up with better solutions to problems that I never could envision from my editor's perspective. Most, when given encouragement and direction, turn their first draft into a thing of beauty.

Sometimes, however, writers are too tired of their own book to give revisions much more energy and are willing to settle for less than the best. Or their narrow focus keeps them from taking suggestions that could make a good book better. That is when it's time for this editor to keep a loose grasp and let the author have their way, which can be a difficult thing for perfectionists.

So, when it came time to write my own books I had a different perspective on working with my editor. (This isn't always the case among editors-turned-novelist. I know of some who are far worse than the authors they used to edit--prima donna would be the apt word. They seem to think that since they're experts at fiction they don't need an outside opinion.) I wanted to make my editor's job easy. I chose to trust her implicitly. My books would be better for it, I knew.

Still, when the first substantive edit came in, I found myself arguing with her comments. It's human nature to want to be right. I deliberately didn't talk to her about the suggestions for several days. I needed time to think things through, to be objective. By the third day, I knew she was right about most everything. When she called I could say, "Thanks for your suggestions; I'm going to rewrite everything you've suggested." And I did. My books are far better for it and my editor had no idea--until now!--that I'd struggled. She thinks I'm easy to work with, humble, accepting of my writing's flaws. I have her so fooled! Now when the substantive reviews come in I don't need three days--I can say without hesitation, "Thanks for everything; I'll take all of your suggestions."

Every writer needs an editor. I've never come across an exception. There are degrees of editing, to be sure. I've completely rewritten many books, some that have gone on to win prestigious awards. Other books I barely have to touch, not even for punctuation, after the author has rewritten that first draft.

Editing is merely bringing a new perspective to each book. We all get too close to our work to see its flaws clearly. Like new parents we become enthralled with our baby.

More later,
Traci