The Confabulator Cafe

Tag: editing

  • Editing Is Polite

     

    Throughout most of my writing life, I have been a very rude writer, with a belief that my prose deserved to be read in its full early flowering. My twelve grade college composition class was probably the last time I edited with an particular fervor.  There I did learn to interrogate all writing that I do, as I do it.
    As a result of this, in college I submitted a lot of first drafts for final copies.  The unfortunate truth is that my first drafts were still better than most finals, and I was able to earn A’s and B’s without putting much effort into the editing process.  To this day, I maintain that the easiest way to become a fluid, competent writer (if not a great artist or sculptor of the written word) is to read a lot of good writers and practice thinking in complete, complex sentences.
    Still, this means that my editing secret used to involve no editing at all.  Part of this really is from a crazy, Jackson Pollack impulse that first thoughts are most intense, that writing is the process of recording thoughts upon the page, spilled out in a gorgeous mixed metaphor of color on the page or screen.
    After teaching college English, though, I had more than my fill of reading the work of students who chose the same chaotic  process, with somewhat more dreadful results than my choppy but readable unedited prose.  So, I knew that I had to learn how to edit.  Since that revelation, I have tried a few things, but haven’t hit on a routine yet.  When editing my second NaNo novel, I tried editing sentence by sentence first. I soon realized that I hadn’t taken care of blazing plot holes, so all time spent on sentence-level edits was wasted until I did a major restructuring.
    On my personal blog, I occasionally review books and discuss ideas by people who are currently incarcerated.  So I have had to start doing legal edits there–leaving my writing for a day or two and then rewriting it to make sure that I haven’t gotten carried away with rhetoric and accidentally advocated for something illegal. Usually, these edits force me to focus what I was really trying to say, as well, a side benefit of dabbling in the ideological fringes.
    Right now, I am resisting my urge to ramble and learning how to delete my beloved tangents. Even in this entry I have taken out a couple of paragraphs of related stories that I found terribly interesting but which were undeniably off point.  I am coming to an understanding of how rude it is to force readers to find their way through my thicket of tales, that the polite writer must get to the point and direct each paragraph to the topic at hand.

  • Free Legwarmers

    I have a writing routine which borders on compulsively ritualistic. I always write first drafts with pen and paper. Then I type that up. Then I read it through and decide whether to develop the idea further or scrap it. If it’s worth re-working, I make an outline and decide if the order in which things occur needs to be changed. Usually the events in my story need to be reordered somewhat so I read through a hard copy with a pen, making notes about things that will need to be changed so that the new order makes sense. Then I get to work re-writing. I give myself more latitude at this stage to flesh out things since the framework is set, but I usually don’t really add in many details until the next re-write.

    Yikes, reading that last paragraph made me feel really weird, like maybe everything I write is unread-ably overwritten. Okay, as an experiment then I will just type whatever pops into my head for the rest of this essay and not edit it at all.

    Cutting is not problem as long as I don’t care how long my finished piece is. My instinct is to tend toward brevity, so I often whittle down a written piece to around 65% of its original unedited length. As for setting goals for editing, I really don’t have to force myself much because it is an enjoyable process for me. The hardest part for me as a writer, is squeezing out that first draft. After I have something to work with on paper, the editing and re-writing stages are pretty fun. Polishing something and making it better seems possible whereas creating something out of nothing strikes me as more intimidating and unlikely to be successful.

    I just threw away my notebooks from National Novel Writing Month 2011. I had filled up five spirals. Perhaps the gratification, for me, is in the process of writing more so than the finished product. Don’t worry, I typed all my notebooks before tossing them so nothing was lost except for the paper original. With the amount of space that one project took up on my shelf in notebook form, I don’t believe I could ever have enough room to save all my writing. Besides writing, I spend much of my free time knitting. Knitting is nice because it keeps my hands busy while I think about ideas for writing. A big part of writing for me is stewing over things until I know the most appropriate way to express them. Perhaps appropriate is the wrong word, I mean the most honest way.

    In knitting there is this idea of “process knitting.” It means that a person doesn’t want to keep the finished object, they just wanted the challenge of completing it. These people usually give away what they knit. To some extent I am the same way with writing. I don’t have a strong desire to have other people read what I’ve written, but I do have a strong desire to write it in the first place.

    That reminds me, I have three pairs of legwarmers that I made that I want to get rid of because they were just first drafts. If anyone wants them, let me know.

  • No secrets here

    Editing secrets? I don’t have any editing secrets. In fact, I am really excited to read everyone else’s posts revealing their editing secrets this week so that I can steal them.

    I have no editing process because I have yet to significantly edit anything. In general, when I’ve “edited” a manuscript, I’ve made cosmetic changes: grammar corrections, delete extra adverbs/adjectives and unneeded passages, and make the remaining sentences prettier. Maybe tweak dialog a bit. But I honestly haven’t ever taken the editing process past surface level.

    Don’t get me wrong. I’ve tried. I always make notes for bigger edits, send out my manuscript to my trusted writing friends for their feedback, and I always have big plans for revision. At first. But then I get overwhelmed and never make them. The Novel Graveyard gets bigger every year as I write and drop project after project.

    Maybe nothing I’ve written has been worthy of the edits needed. Maybe I’m just a lazy writer because I won’t actually do the hard work that’s needed to perfect a manuscript. Maybe it’s my fear of success as much as my fear of failure that keeps me from ever polishing anything beyond Zero Draft status. I don’t know.

    My editing goal, of course, is to someday edit a manuscript within an inch of its life and actually submit it. Hopefully someday I’ll get out of the lazy chair and do that. In the meantime, I have smaller goals: like write some short stories and edit them. And edit them again and then submit them places.

    I suppose my biggest editing secret right now is that I need practice. And confidence. My fellow Confabulators assure me that working with something smaller than a one-hundred-thousand word manuscript will give me the editing skills I need, while getting published will give me the confidence I need. Baby steps, right?

    For now, I am listening to all of my fellow writers’ editing secrets with open ears. Enlighten me, friends.

  • The endless process of revision

    Perry White, Editor
    Jackie Cooper as Perry White in Superman (1978). This is what the editor in my head looks like. Photo courtesy of Warner Bros.

    One day in grad school, a professor was trying to make a point about the importance of editing and asked me how many drafts of a certain assignment I had written before turning it in.

    I knew what she wanted to hear. As one of her favorite students, I was supposed to corroborate her recommendation to complete multiple drafts. But the truth was, I hadn’t. The assignment I turned in — the piece she loved so much — was a one-off: One draft and done.

    But I couldn’t tell her that. I didn’t want to contradict her in front of the class. So before I answered her, I thought for a moment about what went in to that “first draft” I had turned in.

    Here’s the answer (more or less) I gave to the class:

    I revise as I write.

    Every time I sit down to work on something, I reread what I’ve already written. For short stories and poetry, I might start from the beginning. For longer pieces, it may be the start of the previous chapter or whatever I wrote the previous day. But I always approach my writing first as an editor, looking at it with fresh eyes. Once I’ve made sure what came before is clear, I start writing more.

    And the next time I pick up my pen — or sit down at the computer — to write, I start the process over again.

    Nowadays, editing is such an integral part of my writing process, I don’t think about it unless I’m working off of someone else’s notes. Then I always save my original draft and start a new one, out of fear that a paragraph I cut or a favorite line that I change may be lost forever.

    I like to start off each session with the skeptical eye of an editor, looking for the pitfalls in the narrative and reminding myself of the seeds I planted along the way. It’s a lengthier process.

    It also goes against the spirit of NaNoWriMo, and just about every other bit of writing advice I’ve ever read. Stephen King recommends writing “with the door shut,” keeping your editor away until you’re done writing. I prefer to work in tandem with my editor, revising as I go along.

    However you do it — whether you choose to write first and edit later, or edit as you go — keep your editor’s hat handy. No first draft is good enough. Revise, revise, revise.

  • The Editorial Casting Couch: Making Dreams Come True

    I have this sketchy-looking couch in my basement, perfect casting couch material.  It’s only a couple shades away from I’m-a-naughty-harlot red, it’s broken down on one side so you kind of sink into the cushions if you sit in the wrong spot, and did I mention it’s a hide-a-bed?

    We’re talking total class, all the way.  And whenever I have fresh pages in hand, I grab my red pen and head for that skeevy little spot because the editorial couch is where dreams come true, baby.

    I like to take it slow at first, try to warm up to the words, make sure everybody’s comfortable.  Then I might make a suggestion or two.  You know, you’d look a lot better if we just got rid of that little phrase right there.  I mean it’s only a thin four or five words.  It’s not like it’s making that much of a difference.  I bet no one would even notice . . . now, see.  Doesn’t that feel better?

    Sometimes I have to get onto the verbs for being too passive.  Come on.  Show me what you really want.  What do you mean?  I want to be able to picture it.  Be specific, but keep it fun.

    There are other times when I know a character’s heart just isn’t in the scene.  Make me feel your desire.  Show me that your pursuit transcends just wanting something; it’s a need.  Make me believe it.  Make me care whether or not you make the cut.  Show me what you’ll do to make it happen.

    Then there are those times when the words themselves matter more than anything else.  Let’s say that last part out loud and see how it sounds . . . No, I’m just not feeling it.  We need to try again.  Maybe if we change it up a little, experiment, see where things take us.  You do want to be in this story, don’t you?

    For the innocents among you, this may seem like a cruel, manipulative, even dirty, process, but it’s how the game is played.  The words need you to take control.  When they first come to you, they don’t even realize their full potential, but they’re looking for someone who’ll put in the time to get them there.  The words need a voice, a purpose, and direction.  And sometimes a little coaxing can go a long way.

  • Teaching Turkeys to Fly

    “More than half, maybe two-thirds of my life as a writer is rewriting. I wouldn’t say I have a talent that’s special. It strikes me that I have an unusual kind of stamina.” – John Irving.

    Congratulations, you wrote a first draft. You are a novelist, a screenwriter, a playwright, a storyteller…by God, a writer.

    Now, are you ready to get to work?

    Some people compare writing to being god-like. If a first draft is like God creating the world in seven days, then re-writing is Darwinism. It takes millions of years, a lot of your favorite creatures won’t survive, and you still might end up with a bird or two incapable of flight.

    There are a lot of different ways to re-write. I’ve read about and experimented with a ton of them trying to figure out how to get my turkeys to fly more than a few feet.

    I have to fight the desire to correct spelling and grammar during my first trip through the manuscript. Every sentence glares at me with the accusation of “You did this to me! Now fix it!” But alas, they will have to wait their turn.  Before I spend a bunch of time etching a coat of arms on my great sword of war, I need to know if the blade is going to snap the first time I swing it at someone.

    Does the story work on a functional level? Every scene should move your plot forward while simultaneously throwing obstacles at your protagonist.

    Dwight Swain, writer of Techniques of the Selling Writer refers to “scenes” and “sequels.” “Scenes” show the protagonists acting. “Sequels” show how he reactions to the fallout of his actions. He goes so far as to break them down even further, but the idea is that protagonist spends a story pursuing a goal and failing at every turn, causing change.

    All my scenes address that goal, essentially (stealing a phrase from my first screenwriting instructor Ron Peterson) answering the story question. The characters’ actions must feel real. If my character acts in an unbelievable way, given what the reader knows, then I failed and the scene needs changed or cut.

    Even if a scene is perfectly good, if it doesn’t give the story something special or isn’t necessary, it gets axed. This is very hard to do sometimes, and is a by-product of my screenwriting training. Watch special features on DVD’s. You will quickly see how many scenes are deleted, even ones that were already filmed. Usually, they don’t add anything. (more…)

  • ‘Edit’ Is a Four-Letter Word (week of 2 April 2012)

    Have you ever encountered someone who said that writing a novel is easy?

    Settle down, we know it’s not. We’ve been through the process as recently as November, which is – as you know – National Novel Writing Month. We call it NaNoWriMo and those of us that have taken on the challenge are known as WriMos.

    Ask any of us here in the Cafe on any given day what’s harder than writing the novel or even coming up with an idea that should be fleshed out and researched and you’ll get one answer: editing.

    Hands down the most difficult, though for some enjoyable, process is going through your creation and hacking away at it. Cringing at the bits that seemed to make sense when you were writing really late that night and buzzing on coffee and energy drinks is the least of what happens. Hair is torn out, teeth are gnashed and foreheads slapped. Despair settles easily around a writer’s shoulders when it looks like the story isn’t salvageable.

    All is not lost, however. This week is where the Confabulators share how we edit; what our goals are, what our particular process is and just how do we decide to make the cuts. It’s a little peek into the restless minds of writers trying to make their stories better.

    So come back all week long to see if we do things the same ways or what the variations might be. At the very least it ought to be entertaining as we detail how to ‘murder our darlings’.

  • Are You Editing Your NaNoWriMo Novel?

    The Confabulators have been meeting once a month for the last several years. Every November, they’re the core group of WriMos who encourage others to sit down and write 50,000 words in a month. The local message board is rife with taunts, excerpts, questions and support that I’m sure happens in every region for National Novel Writing Month.

    We like to think our group is special because we don’t just write in November. We started the Cafe to  share our enthusiasm with the rest of the world. This last November we had several successes. Among them, one of the books completed during NaNoWriMo is going to be published. This barista can’t tell you whose it was or when or where it will be published, but maybe you’ll find a hint here in the Ephemera question for this week: Are you editing your NaNoWriMo novel?

    Jason Arnett:

    HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Ahuh. Sorry. Ahem. Yes, I’m editing my NaNoWriMo novel. I laugh because I had intended to have a real first draft done and out to my sharp-eyed friends who would so kindly read it. Obviously I don’t have that done yet, but I am in the process of trying to get to that point. I can offer all kinds of excuses (and you can read them on my blog) but I’m diving headfirst into in come April 1. Ask me again in a month how it’s going.

    Nancy Cayton Myers

    Yes, I’m editing my 2011 NaNo book.  I’ve gone through it in hard copy and wrote a long, act by act treatment/synopsis to find the holes, explore what to expand on, and determine ways to raise the stakes for the various plot lines and characters.  I’ve gotten some great feedback from the few readers that would put up with the super-rough NaNo draft.  Now I need to get busy rewriting so I can send it out for more.  It’s going to take awhile to revise to my satisfaction, but I love this story.  Wish me luck!

    Jack Campbell, Jr.

    Not yet. I have a strict rule that I will not edit without writing something else in between as a palette cleanser. With Script Frenzy being in April, a screenplay will allow me a complete mental break from my novel. My plan is to start editing Kill Creek Road in May, and hopefully have it ready for submission by the end of the Summer.

    Sara Lundberg

    As of right now, no, am not editing my NaNo novel. I want to. Someday. It deserves the attention. I received invaluable feedback and a great deal of encouragement from my fellow writing group members for it. So I plan to. When the thought of revising it doesn’t make me want the throw up anymore, I will.

    Amanda Jaquays

    If I said, “yes” I would be lying. If I said “no” I would equally be lying. A better response to whether I’m editing my NaNoWriMo novel would be that I’m trying. I’ll get a solid week of editing in before I get distracted by something… anything. It’s a bad sign when cleaning the litterbox is more appealing than editing. I keep telling myself I will dive back into the editing process–I’ve already gone through and made the edits on paper, I just have to type them up–but it’s really hard to get motivation. Especially when there are books to read… and reread.

    Ted Boone

    Am I editing my NaNoWriMo novel? No. I’m still writing the first draft. 🙂

  • Editing: Just saying ‘no’

    Kerouac scroll
    Even Jack Kerouac — who purportedly wrote On the Road in three weeks on a scroll of taped-together paper — still took time to edit his work.

    It’s never easy to tell yourself “no.”

    We live in a world where we we are programmed to eat large portions, fill our wish lists with the latest gadgets and toys, and give in to every impulse buy imaginable. So it’s difficult to show restraint and say no. Especially in one’s own writing.

    As a writer, it’s necessary to explore ideas. Every character, every line of dialogue, every situation has the potential to be something great. Many writers (I’m looking at you, poets!) think every word is essential and each description is pure gold. In the end, some are good, others… well, not so much.

    But I’m not only a writer. I’m also an editor. I have to edit my work, and the editor in me is much less likely to put up with the falderal that the writer in me indulges.

    As much as it pains me, sometimes things in my writing don’t work. When that happens, I have to decide if it’s worthwhile to fix it, or whether I should just cut it and move on. The key to avoiding wasted time is to develop the story before I even begin to write.

    (more…)