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| My manuscript, yesterday. |
Editors, prologues and revisions, oh my...
It's been a crazy few months. In the last post I mentioned that 'The Silver City' (yes, the game of name pong is finally over with) was with the delightful Bothersome Words/editorial wonder Abigail Nathan for a long-overdue clean up via a professional manuscript assessment. I also commented that I foresaw plenty of work being required when it came back. Because despite being a writer who knows what he's doing, I'm also a writer who has no idea what he's doing.
If you're a writer too you will understand this. That we are the MASTERS OF WORDS at any given moment in time and that those same words will suck balls at most other moments in time - all depending on what time of day it is, how much sleep we've had, whether it's a Monday or a Friday, if you're in love, if you've been dumped, and a number of other factors that have nothing to do with writing but have everything to do with our mysterious mental makeup.
If you're a writer too you will understand this. That we are the MASTERS OF WORDS at any given moment in time and that those same words will suck balls at most other moments in time - all depending on what time of day it is, how much sleep we've had, whether it's a Monday or a Friday, if you're in love, if you've been dumped, and a number of other factors that have nothing to do with writing but have everything to do with our mysterious mental makeup.
But... wait? What strange magic IS this?
In the end, I was right. There was plenty of work to do on the manuscript. But not quite the way I envisaged.
For a start, Abigail wrote a glowing recommendation of the ms:
"...exceptionally well-written, exciting and gripping... the writing itself is sharp and clean, the characters well-drawn and the world building exquisite... an action-packed adventure."
Yeah. I know. I KNOW.
It took a while to retrieve my humbled jaw from the floor. But after I popped it back into place, I made sure to comb back through this wonderful assessment in minute detail, looking for the catch. Only there wasn't one. Not much was required in terms of major revisions, it appeared, just a retweaking here and there.
Obviously this was fantastic to hear. Mainly because I'm lazy and didn't want to do any more work on this bloody book. Also kids and family and things, but mainly the lazy.
Obviously this was fantastic to hear. Mainly because I'm lazy and didn't want to do any more work on this bloody book. Also kids and family and things, but mainly the lazy.
However, sadly, I'm also a perfectionist. And perfectionism > laziness, always.
There had to be a reason that a story loved (YES SHE USED THAT EXACT WORD AND MY SMALL HEART GREW THREE SIZES THAT DAY) by someone in the industry had so far failed to find a home.
There had to be a reason that a story loved (YES SHE USED THAT EXACT WORD AND MY SMALL HEART GREW THREE SIZES THAT DAY) by someone in the industry had so far failed to find a home.
So after making the minor tweaks, I went back and we discussed the most important part of the book: the opening.
Once upon a time...
This is the part that needs to shine. To dazzle and grab and never let you go. I've worked on mine for years now. There have been countless revisions, and my friends and family are sick of me asking for repeat reviews of the latest version of Chapter 1. "Just send it out already!" they scream at me. "Not until it's ready!" I cry back. Literally crying in some cases.
Yet despite all the work, and having had quite a few partial requests, I'd only had one full... which meant that my opening wasn't doing much grabbing of anything in the right way.
'Was it the prologue', I wondered?
'Perhaps', came the disembodied editorial response through the wonder of email.
Of course, prologues are a fantasy staple. And if done well, can be a brilliant addition to any work (see The Peculiar by Stefan Bachmann for an example of how to do it), being either an exciting set-up or a kind of DVD-extra/Easter Egg for the discerning reader.
Yet sometimes they can hamper efforts to get into the story, and that might have been the case with the one I had. So despite it being a pretty great 'Breaking Bad' book-end style prologue (basically the beginning of the last chapter), we quickly sent it off to Belize.
Once upon a time...
This is the part that needs to shine. To dazzle and grab and never let you go. I've worked on mine for years now. There have been countless revisions, and my friends and family are sick of me asking for repeat reviews of the latest version of Chapter 1. "Just send it out already!" they scream at me. "Not until it's ready!" I cry back. Literally crying in some cases.
Yet despite all the work, and having had quite a few partial requests, I'd only had one full... which meant that my opening wasn't doing much grabbing of anything in the right way.
'Was it the prologue', I wondered?
'Perhaps', came the disembodied editorial response through the wonder of email.
Of course, prologues are a fantasy staple. And if done well, can be a brilliant addition to any work (see The Peculiar by Stefan Bachmann for an example of how to do it), being either an exciting set-up or a kind of DVD-extra/Easter Egg for the discerning reader.
Yet sometimes they can hamper efforts to get into the story, and that might have been the case with the one I had. So despite it being a pretty great 'Breaking Bad' book-end style prologue (basically the beginning of the last chapter), we quickly sent it off to Belize.
Let go, Luke.
And once I let go of what had been the beginning of my story since... well, the beginning, some 12 years or so ago, I felt... lighter. So much so that I had no problem sending the photon torpedoes of 'delete' anywhere and everywhere in the subsequent chapters, blasting them into much leaner, meaner shape.
Admittedly this was my first experience working with an editor instead of being one, so there is every chance I overstepped the limits of my role as 'pestering author' during the continual back and forth discussing what worked, what didn't, am I 'saving the cat' too much, or should I leave the bloody cat up the tree and get on with it, etc, etc.
However, Abigail was patient and brilliant throughout. And thank goodness, because despite knowing that I needed to be brutal, I didn't really know where to make it happen. I needed a fresh perspective that I could trust, zeroing in on the details I was too close to, and helping me make the final call.
In the end, we finally hit upon a structure that worked. And after being flabbergasted to hear that I had actually been recommended to a couple of 'Very Important People' who were interested in reading it, I was able to send the manuscript back out into the world knowing it was a solid piece of work that could stand up, look people in the eye, and not be embarrassed over being dressed in all the wrong clothes, with hair that looked like shit. Because it wasn't. It had finally found a mirror, a shower, and a fresh wardrobe.
Cleaning up your act
That's the main thing for me, in fact: to present the story well. And it must surely be for any writer. This business we're trying to crack - through years of lonely, sleepless nights at the computer, or staring at scene cards on the table next to the dinner that went cold hours ago, or mucking about on Twitter (damn you, beautiful but distracting social network!) - does not offer up the rewards to match the effort. Few can make enough to quit the day job. Even fewer become famous enough to be known as writers. So if you're in it for fame and fortune then you need to rethink your strategy.
In the end, we finally hit upon a structure that worked. And after being flabbergasted to hear that I had actually been recommended to a couple of 'Very Important People' who were interested in reading it, I was able to send the manuscript back out into the world knowing it was a solid piece of work that could stand up, look people in the eye, and not be embarrassed over being dressed in all the wrong clothes, with hair that looked like shit. Because it wasn't. It had finally found a mirror, a shower, and a fresh wardrobe.
Cleaning up your act
That's the main thing for me, in fact: to present the story well. And it must surely be for any writer. This business we're trying to crack - through years of lonely, sleepless nights at the computer, or staring at scene cards on the table next to the dinner that went cold hours ago, or mucking about on Twitter (damn you, beautiful but distracting social network!) - does not offer up the rewards to match the effort. Few can make enough to quit the day job. Even fewer become famous enough to be known as writers. So if you're in it for fame and fortune then you need to rethink your strategy.
A writer needs to concern themselves with putting out a work of quality. Doing justice to the stories in their head. If anything more comes of that then great. But if not then at least you've done the job you set out to do and can move on the better for it.
And for that you need to go through the editorial process, whether you're self-publishing or traditional publishing, or passing it out on napkins to friends.
So for any writer out there who's worked and worked on a manuscript until their eyes (and fingers) bleed, I can't recommend it enough. Yes, if you get lucky with an agent or publisher you might get this kind of third-party editorial assessment for free, but for the rest who want to forge a career in writing stories then you should really try and make this happen yourself. Even if you're a pretty great editor, even if you're a master of the writing craft - you have to realise that a writer is only as good as their editor, and writers are not the best editors of their work, and other tired but nevertheless useful quotes.
Get with the edit and clean yourself up.
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