On Craft--How Not to Edit Away Ambition

I sent off a long Editorial letter today for a book I not only love, but one I am especially impressed by. In my letter, I suggested a pretty major change to the plotting and I wasn't quite sure how the author would respond (see Editors get nervous, too), but ultimately I knew it was the right change for the book and would solve a great many concerns in the narrative. Luckily, the suggestion made sense to my author and he was on board. I'll chalk that up to brilliant editing. But I did spend a great deal of time weighing the pros and cons of this particular edit, which was essentially to excise a large chunk of the plot, which would act as the first domino to fall so to speak and would in turn effect many other plot points in the narrative. I anguished (more so than usual) over the direction my editorial notes were taking. Is this the right thing? Am I certain? I checked in with myself again and again on this question. But alas, I was sure. Then what was my hesitation? Why the need to continually check in with myself on this edit? My fear was that I may have been editing out one of the best things the plot has going for it: its ambition.

I see a lot of manuscripts. A lot. On average, anywhere from 20-30 manuscripts are submitted to me a month. A shocking (or maybe not so shocking) number of them are so similar in theme, subject matter and execution, that it often feels as if writers have been given some formula that someone told them was the magic recipe to publication. The books I pursue for publication are those that stand out from the crowd. A narrative can do that in many ways from the quality of the writing to a stirring emotional baseline to strong characterization to an especially compelling and memorable voice. The books I pursue for publication are usually some combination of all of the above. But the books that get me most excited are the books that are not only artfully crafted, but also those that are ambitiously crafted--a narrative approach that ups the ante. If it's a romance, it's not your typical romance--there's some spin on the traditional boy meets girl, boy loses girl scenario that I didn't see coming. If it's a mystery, it's one where perhaps the main character is an unreliable narrator putting all the clues into question. Or perhaps it's an ordinary story of life and love and work, but told in second person from the perspective of a group...say an office, like in one of my favorite novels And Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris. A narrative that is not executed in a traditional straight-forward manner, but in an approach that is surprising and not often tried is exciting. It's exciting to writers (as it's a satisfying challenge), to editors (after one read of an ambitious narrative, we can already see the NYT book review where Michiko Kakutani sings our author's praises) and for readers who are tired of the same old, same old and are very vocal about that weariness.

Ambition is what gives truly great novels that sparkle and shine that lasts. Why does To Kill A Mockingbird  endure? Because it's ambitous and surprising and impressive in that ambition. And I'm not talking about its content, which is indeed masterful, but just as masterful is its ambitious execution. I still recall that feeling of amazement in understanding that Harper Lee had ensnared me in a perfect circular narrative. The great joy in rereading To Kill A Mockingbird is searching for that moment when the narrative made its turn, that moment when Miss Lee set us on the path to return to the moment where we began the novel without us noticing at all. Such a seamlessly, effortlessly executed feat. That is why To Kill a Mockingbird endures.

Today, I sent off an editorial letter to an author who has similar ambition and it would be arrogant of me to not have wondered if my editorial letter to this author wasn't the equivalent of telling Harper Lee to 86 the circular narrative of To Kill a Mockingbird. An editor never wants to mess with the very thing that makes a novel special. So how was I so sure this wasn't what I was doing? I examined what was left of the novel after suggesting a major section of plot be eliminated. And what was left still dazzled and the shine was not at all diminished by what was no longer there.

Editing is also a craft. And until an author has found their editor, an author must edit themselves. Today's thought on craft? Don't edit away your narrative's ambition. Understand what about your narrative's execution makes it stand out in a crowd and cleave to it. All else is superfluous.

Stacey

Sunday Inspiration--Getting It Done!

My editing "To Do" list is currently eight manuscripts long. It sometimes feels daunting when I consider how much there is to do. It feels even more daunting when I consider the submissions I also have to respond to--have yet to respond to. Oy! There is just too much to do and not enough hours in the day, but there are authors counting on me and sometimes the only way through is through. This weekend I had to shake myself free from the paralysis and anxiety that my "To Do" list often causes and just get it done. I haven't left my house in two days. I haven't been taking phone calls, there are text messages from people who love me checking to make sure I'm still alive that I should probably answer and there's been hardly a peep from me on social media. I understand it may have snowed. But it was all worth it as I can happily cross one of those manuscripts off my "To Do" list. And there's something slightly thrilling about accomplishing such a task and actually crossing the item of my list. (I have a literal list and I actually take my pen and cross things off of it; I find it cathartic, sort of an encouraging pat on the back. I recommend this ritual to everyone). It makes me feel like I'm on a little bit of a roll and more than ready to take on the next task, excited even to keep getting it done. I have to remind myself that going to sleep and resting my mind is also part of getting it done. And I will rest, but wanted to acknowledge the reward of renewed energy and yes, inspiration in finishing a task, especially when that task is about bringing an author one step closer to having a publishable manuscript. Finishing is also a reminder to stay on task and just as writers should write every day, I need to edit every day. It's easier said than done given the demands of the office and the need to shower and otherwise conduct a personal life, but if I could edit every single day, consistently, even if it's just twenty pages a day, I wouldn't always feel quite so overwhelmed by my "To Do" list...maybe. I'll make a renewed commitment to it and we'll see...The truth is I don't want my editing "To Do" list to feel like a "To Do" list at all, and wish I didn't have to think about editing in such a formulaic, business-like way. I love editing. My fingers literally itch to do it, especially as I love all the projects on my "To Do" list. Hmmm...perhaps the most important thing is just to hold onto this buoyed, joyful feeling and chase it every day, by making my way through as there is also as much joy in making it through as there is in finishing.

So here I am, Sunday night, ready and raring to go, looking forward to my week excited about all the other manuscripts on my "To Do" list and getting it done. Excited to edit.

I wish a happy and productive week to you all and here's to getting it done!

Stacey

On Craft--Certainty in Vodka

Publishing people are drinking people. We just are. One of the first things I learned about when I entered this noble profession was the two (three?) martini lunch and the more prosecco the better. Along with the drinking goes the gossiping. Publishing people are the biggest gossips. So when out with another editor, I know there will be two things: lots of drinking and lots of gossiping. And both are renewing. But also, when out with another publishing person, especially when another editor, along with the drinking and gossiping, there is also a lot of craft talk. Tonight was such a night. There was talk of one editor going through over 20 drafts with an author. I confessed I was on my 7th draft with an author. Tenth piped another. Fourteenth piped another. And then the knowing nods and smiles. None of us were saying that there was anything shameful about going through so many rounds with an author or that it was even unusual, just that it was the job and what we do as editors. We read and read and read again. We read and edit and have our authors revise until it's ready. And being ready is the thing. Publishing a book too early can be the death knell of a book and we all know it. Though we've all been guilty of publishing a book early--because of market pressures, in-house pressures, but most especially author pressure. Twenty revisions is not for the feint of heart, but it is sometimes necessary...necessary to ensure that books get starred reviews, get hand-sold by indie accounts, get award consideration and recognition and get the kind of grass roots enthusiasm and support than can assure a bestseller. Waiting for a book to be ready can make or break a book and we all know it.

And when we have been guilty of publishing a book too early, it's most often because an author is fatigued and not quite up for that twenty-first draft or even that sixth draft or even that third draft. Authors will and can sometimes judge a book ready before an editor does and in this moment an editor must face their mortality so to speak. It's not, in fact, our name going on the cover. It's not, in fact, our book. And we have in our hands a book we love and an author who has reached their limit. So we publish. And often these are not the most successful, memorable books, though they could have been.

One of the most successful authors on my list repeatedly forces one promise from me: Do not let me publish a bad book. And I don't. I tell this author when I think the book is not ready and this author listens to me and every book we've published together has received starred reviews, award attention and sold well. This author isn't in a rush, and trusts the publishing team, including me, especially me (author-editor trust is paramount to success) to tell them when they've done their best. For me as an editor, this is an ideal publishing situation and one that has been fruitful for the author, for me as editor and for the publisher, overall.

This is when I believe in gatekeepers. This is when I believe in the traditional publishing model. This is when I believe in publishing. It can be a well-oiled machine and talent can always shine if it's given the proper time and space to develop. So if your editor is putting you through the paces, don't let impatience overwhelm you or rob you of the time you need to produce the best, most thoughtful book. Craft is also about ensuring that no book is published before it's time. Craft is time and patience and listening to your revision partner--your editor--who is your main cheerleader and wants to see you reach the highest heights (because an editor's career also grows as an author's career grows, so editors do have a particular vested interest). Craft is waiting until your book is ready and embracing each step in the revision process with enthusiasm and not fatigue, even when you really are tired. Give yourself every possibility. Give your craft every chance to shine. Whether that means 3 or 8 or 30 drafts, patience is not only a virtue but when it comes to publishing, it can be the difference between a viable, long-lasting career and getting lost to the mid-list.

So a night of drinking, gossiping and craft has recommitted me to the best of what I do and the certainty of slow and steady wins the race. And the certainty of revision. And also vodka. There is certainty in vodka.

Stacey