Hello from the Writing Attic!

Where I am for the I-don’t-actually-remember-how-manyth-time-now I’m rewriting my book. Truly! The work never ends!!

But here’s the thing. I still love that book. And there’s still life in it and a chance for it to find a home. I do have other things I’m working on (a story collection! never-ending freelance! a whole other mess of a book!), but this is, frankly, the reality of what it is to write books. You draft, you re-draft, you sketch an outline, you ignore the outline, you print it out, you re-type it, you submit it, you reject it, you re-write it, you re-submit it, and so on and so forth until the heat death of the universe comes for us all.

Yesterday, a friend asked me what my ultimate goal in life was and I was able to truthfully answer that I don’t think like that anymore. Thank the pandemic, the complex trauma that is modern life, a forever existential crisis — whatever it was, I’m a much happier person now than I ever was as a goal-oriented nightmare.

The goal is to get through each day with more joy than hate. The goal is to go where the love is. The love is still with this never-ending book. The love is still in the writing attic. The love is still in the early morning cocoon of typing in my underwear in an attic that is way too hot.

Where’s your love at these days? Inquiring minds want to know.

Now, let’s gossip.

Writers Ask: If my work was bad, would you tell me?

God bless it, I had a client reach out the other day with an editing request for a novel manuscript and this sweet summer soul asked me this question: “If my work was really bad, would you tell me?”

The short answer is: No, it’s not my policy as an editor to sugarcoat the truth.

However, that’s not the question they were really asking.

When a client reaches out to ask about editing services, I usually have them fill out this form which includes a space to submit a 500-word sample of their work. Now we’ve all been traumatized to believe that whenever we submit a sample of our writing, we are sending our work off to be judged and found wanting, which is typically the case any time you submit your work for publication.

However, that is not the case when you’re submitting your work to me to consider for editing services (or, I would wager, any other developmental editor who asks for samples from potential clients.)

I’m not asking for a sample so I can read it and say, “Oho! This person needs editing! Haha!!” Because of course you need editing. You’re asking me for editing. (Also, everyone needs editing, especially me and especially Stephen King, I said what I said.)

I’m also not asking for a sample so I can read it and say, “Wow, this person is hopeless. Not wasting my time. Next!” No one can discern from 500 words alone if your writing is hopeless and you are unteachable. Just like only you can prevent forest fires, only you can decide if you’re a hopeless and unteachable writer.

What I am looking for when I ask for that sample are two things: 1) Grounding, and 2) Potential. In other words, I’m trying to figure out where you are right now on your writing journey and where you might be able to go or want to go. Ability has nothing to do with either of those things, save for your ability to be open to learning.

Back to the whole me-not-sugarcoating-the-truth thing.

Working with a developmental editor isn’t about someone else fixing your work so it’s publishable. Working with a developmental editor is about embarking on a learning journey, specifically with the work at hand. Learning is at the heart of our writer/editor relationship. And learning must start in a place free of judgment and full of trust.

You’re trusting me to offer my professional opinion of your work to make it stronger. (I say professional opinion and not professional judgement because opinions change with knowledge, while judgment is often final.) You’re trusting that I will tell you the truth and I’m trusting that you will be open to that truth.

But the thing about offering you my true, professional opinion as an editor is that there are layers to that opinion. A draft, in a nutshell, is a work that simultaneously has a long way to go in terms of improvement and is bursting with potential. The sample has nothing to do with me judging your ability to write or unilaterally deciding if something is “good” or “bad.” The sample is to help me decide what kind of touch to use when I offer my opinion.

Nit-picky editing on a draft that is clearly in an early stage with a writer who is new to the experience is a one-way ticket to dream-killing town. Nit-picky editing on a draft that is really close to ready with a writer who has put in the time is something completely different. Both require different approaches and time commitments. Seeing a sample helps me determine those things. That’s all. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So if you’re up to it, strap on the backpack and let’s hit the trail.

Newsletter Alert: Kill Your Darlings with Paul Bogaards

Bogaards is a long-time industry insider (previously an executive at Knopf) with a new PR firm and a new industry newsletter which seems like it’ll mostly be industry rants in the best possible way.

I love a good industry rant. Navel-gazy? Absolutely. Do I care? Lol.

“The leisurely pace of trade publishing is a thing of the long past. Ours is now a profession of attendant stresses and pressures, like most other professions. How did this happen? Why has it happened? What does it portend? Well, the companies we work for got bigger (see references to “the big five”) and bigger companies have to place more bets and with those bets come outsized expectations and that’s how pressure manifests for employees up and down the publishing chain:

“I need this book to work.” Editor to friend over drinks.

“We need this book to work.” Publisher to Editor over drinks.

“You have to make this book work.” Editor and Publisher to the marketer and publicist in an early zoom meeting about “making this book work because if we don’t everyone will die.”

Here is the thing: they don’t all work.”

Look, the voice just winds up and gets better and better and I’m here for it. Subscribe.

Parting Shot

That’s enough for today. Please enjoy this stupid picture of my cat trying to get the squirrel in the bird feeder.

! Access the Newsletter Archive !

One final word — it occurs to me that people new to the newsletter might like to be able to read past issues. All past issues of the newsletter are available here.