Editing Fiction

Matthew Bin, a visitor to this site, recently wrote me for some advice. It seemed like such a good question that I asked if I could quote him and offer an answer here. He said yes, so here's what he asked:

I have finished a draft of a novel. I think it's a good novel -- maybe
it'll sell, maybe it won't, but it's worth getting it in shape and
sending out to publishers.

Here's the problem: I don't know how to edit it. Writing was
relatively easy; I understood how to get it together, how to put the
words on paper. And I even have some clear ideas about what the
weaknesses are in the novel, and where the changes have to be made.
But the only things I can really seem to work on are the polishing,
diction, and so on -- I don't know how to change the major things.

I've looked for courses, I've looked for books and online advice, I've
talked to members in my local CAA, I've talked to a friend of mine who
has published a literary novel (which is the stream I'm hoping to
publish in), and no one really seems to be able to tell me much about
what I'm supposed to do.

So can you tell me how you approach this stage in the process? You've
got your first draft, you're ready to bring it to the next level,
and... what?

And here's what I replied:

My experience may not suit Matthew or others, but in addition to the routine copy-editing for grammar, spelling, and formatting, here's what I suggest:

1. Compile some kind of "bible" that establishes spelling (especially of names), usage style, physical descriptions and so on. The publisher's editor will do this; if you do it first, you'll make her job easier. Using the bible, you can ensure consistency—people's height and eye colour, the street address of the heroine's apartment, that kind of thing. It's supposed to be physically impossible to juggle more than 11 objects; a novelist has to juggle hundreds of things, and a bible makes it much more manageable.

2. Do a "verbiage cut." Every word and phrase in the story has to beg for its life. Adjectives and adverbs, Elmore Leonard has observed, are not your friends. Most of the "he saids" and "she replieds" in your dialogue can disappear. It ought to be perfectly clear who's talking to whom, and in what tone of voice. If it's not, revise the dialogue.

The verbiage cut can also expand to whole sentences and paragraphs. Ask yourself: Does this sentence, or paragraph, or conversation, advance the story? If not, what's its purpose—just a demonstration of what a fine writer you are?

I still wince at the recollection of a passage in Icequake, wherein two Antarctic scientists are flying across the Ross Ice Shelf to see what's happened to McMurdo Sound after a catastrophic ice surge. To while away the time, they reminisce about their student days. It's a total waste of paper and reader attention, because nothing they talk about has any payoff later in the story. I thought I was "creating three-dimensional characters," when I was just babbling.

If your instincts recoil from such mutilation of your manuscript, remember that in ancient Rome, "editor" was the title of the sponsor of gladiatorial combats. Two thousand years later, the editor's job is still to ensure a happy audience through the skilled application of hacking, slashing, and amputating.

3. Do a "cold reading." Leave the cut manuscript alone for a couple of weeks, maybe even longer. Re-format it in a font that's readable but not one you usually use. Then go through it while making marginal notes. This reading serves several purposes:

•You catch all kinds of typos and errors thanks to the unfamiliar font, which makes this a "strange" document, not your own baby.
•You can note any major problems—unexplained events, holes in the plot, and so on. Don't try to fix them just yet, or you'll bog down.
•Since you don't remember the details, you pay more attention to them. If they don't add to the story, cut them; if you realize that your readers need more details, you can add them.
•You'll still remember the basic plot and structure, and you'll be able to judge how any given scene contributes to them.

Ideally, a cold reading requires a printed, double-spaced manuscript. You may find this expensive if you're going through a long novel and printing out successive drafts. But you will catch problems that just don't appear on the computer screen, least of all after hours of staring at scrolling text. Don't forget that you are not just trying to make this a better, more publishable story; you're trying to make your editor's job as effortless as possible. Your editor is She Who Must Be Obeyed, and the less editing you oblige her to do, the more she will love you and your next manuscript.

If you do find major problems, don't panic and abandon the project. Instead, write yourself a letter about them so you're clear about what you need to do (or what you can at least try). Maybe you need to "retrofit"—plant something in the beginning of the story to prepare for some event near the end. Maybe you need to cut a character, or expand a character. Sometimes you may have to add a couple of chapters, or create a subplot.

This is not day surgery, so plan to give such changes plenty of time for writing, scrutiny, and further revsion.

And please—save a backup of your original version and the new version.

4. In multi-strand plots, consider "stripping." I did this one Christmas afternoon with a novel I'd wasted four years on. Reviewing the damn thing for yet another time, I realized two subplots had almost no bearing on the main story. In an hour or so I peeled 20,000 words out of a 75,000-word manuscript...and I was right, because the stripped version needed almost no patching. I haven't entirely given up on the story, but I'm going to have to beef up the surviving strands to bring it back up to novel length. Not to mention updating a whole bunch of material.

5. In slow-starting novels, consider beheading. Icequake started with about 60 pages of people meeting people, getting accustomed to living in an Antarctic base, blah blah. My editor complained about the dull and draggy opening. I wrote myself a letter about the problem and realized that in the genre of the natural disaster novel, you need to set off your disaster right away—in contrast to a novel about human-caused disaster, in which the story is all about whether the hero can stave off the disaster.

So I chopped 60 pages, 15,000 words, off the front end, and replaced them with 25. By page 23 or 24, the disaster was well under way, and we could then relax and enjoy watching the characters suffer like hell.

6. Get an outside opinion. Your significant other may love you and wish you well, but when you first saw your S.O. on some enchanted evening, you didn't think erotic thoughts about blue pencils. Try out your story in a creative-writing class, or a local writers' association. Better yet, find a freelance editor who's done fiction, and pay for a detailed critique.

Don't be defensive about the editor's comments. They may not all be correct, but you're getting an objective outsider's take on your story. If it's negative, just accept that you have more work ahead.

One of the best things any editor ever did for my writing was to crush both the first draft of Icequake and my ego. It was Judy-Lynn Del Rey, peace be upon her, who wrote to my agent: "Kilian is telling, not showing." It was a fair cop. I had to admit to myself that I'd written that draft out of sheer cowardice about tackling the story as it should have been.

My cheek stinging from that deserved slap, I buckled down and did the job properly. Del Rey Books didn't buy it, but Douglas & McIntyre did, and it made a small fortune. I later sold a bunch of novels to Del Rey even after Judy-Lynn's untimely death...because with more concision that I have shown here, she taught me how to edit my own stuff.

Comments

Many thanks, Crawford -- this was just what I was hoping for. Before I was just staring at a monolithic manuscript; now I can put together a plan of action. Time to roll up my sleeves -- you've given me plenty to do.

Thanks again!

Matt

Good stuff. I'd also add rhythm: read the story out loud. I've discovered that catches awkwardness like nothing else. ;-)

By the by, Matt, GREAT JOB!

[susan]

Excellent advice. What struck me first in Matt's letter was, "And I even have some clear ideas about what the
weaknesses are in the novel, and where the changes have to be made."

One thing I've started doing when I come upon a part that"bothers" me in the rereading, is to finally acknowledge to myself that something's wrong by "highlighting" it in yellow or blue. That way, it's shouting to be redone, but won't be forgotten. Sometimes we see it, but don't know quite what the problem is or how to immediately fix it.

[Nicole J. LeBoeuf-Little]

This is wonderful advice - thank you, thank you, thank you, from another newbie with several novel drafts that have yet to be edited and sent out to meet people.

(Your article reminded me of another one by Holly Lisle, "One-Pass Manuscript Revision: From First Draft to Last in One Cycle". It gets recommended often to National Novel-Writing Month participants.)

[Terri]

Thank you for posting this information... I am a new writer and have just written a story. I too was wondering how to go about editing my work. Thanks again..T.