From Here to There: My Own Editing Nightmare

I'm in the middle of the editing process. Or really, at the beginning. Or maybe just past the beginning. Whatever. I'm editing, with the help of an experienced editor. It's not my favorite part of my job, but it is a necessity.

Every time I write a book, I think that this will be the one. I'll finally take a look at the finished manuscript and declare that this book needs no editing. The editor will fix a few typos and declare the book perfect. That's what will happen.

That never happens. There's always something that needs fixing. And it's usually one of two things. Either I've written too much or I've written too little.

The first problem isn't really a problem. My editor typically removes the offending chapters and we move on. The second...well it's connected to how quickly I write and how much I hate going backwards.

I can finish a decent first draft in just 2 or 3 weeks. That's pretty quick for a book that's over 100,000 words. But sometimes, in my haste to get the first draft finished, I...jump around a little. Sometimes, just sometimes, I'll forget to stop and impart little bits of necessary information to the reader. I might skip entire scenes, scenes that really need to be included. I don't even notice, probably because I'm the writer. I already know those things. I sometimes forget that the reader doesn't.

So my editor will sometimes have to remind me that I jumped from here to there without warning. And then I have to do my least favorite thing. I have to go back and fill in the blanks. I hate that. When I'm done with a book, I like to be actually done. I like to move on. I like to start a new book.

But it doesn't always work that way. I'm a professional, and that sometimes means making sure the previous book is actually up to snuff before I can really move on. And though I might find it tedious, I do it. I do it because I have to, because the book deserves it, and because I like seeing my books on the bookshelves.

But I don't have to like it.

When Editors and Writers Clash

As a professional writer I find myself having to deal with editors for every book I write. Sometimes it's an editor I've worked with before, but every once in a while it's an editor I've had no experience with. Such is the case with my current novel. The editor assigned to handle my book right now is a lovely enough lady, and older one, who has been editing historical romance for 25 years. She's very good at her job, or so I've been assured. I've also never worked with her before.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not great with people. That's why I'm a writer. It allows me to spend my days all by my lonesome and not have to talk to anyone. Except when it comes to getting the book ready to publish. Then there are editors to deal with.

Let me stop for a moment to point out this little fact: I love editors. They have never failed to improve my books, and I'm not just talking about fixing typos and adding in missed words (though I greatly appreciate this, too). I have certain weaknesses as a writer, weaknesses editors are VERY good at hiding for me. For example, I over write. I'll keep going and going and going like an Energizer Bunny with a pen. I've written right past the end of my novels most of the time, and every time my editor will let me know exactly where the story ended. It can't go on forever, after all.

This is just one of the many things editors have done for me, so I love editors. Love, love, love. But I'm not great with people, so actually having to talk to someone about much of anything is a bit irritating. I suck it up because it's part of writing professionally. But I don't love the editing process.

Editors can probably sense this about me, and they're generally very polite and patient as I creep through the process. I've done it a dozen times, but I'm still leery of it. Not because my words will be changed (this is inevitable) but because I'm talking to PEOPLE. Dreaded PEOPLE. Still, I've always worked well enough with the editors in the past. We've meshed and sometimes even bonded over our love of the written word.

And yet this time...I don't know. We're certainly not meshing. She's not unreasonable and I'm not rude or anything, but we don't really get along. Like the coworker down the hall that is a perfectly nice woman and is good at her job but you can't stand her. To be clear: It's not that I can't stand this woman. We just don't exactly get along; there is little rapport between us. If we were working in an office, we'd tolerate each other but our bosses would probably make sure we didn't work together.

But my editor and I have to work together. So what are the options? Well, I guess we could not work together. She could not do her job, and I could not do my job, and absolutely nothing could get accomplished. It's an option. Not the best option, but it is an option.

I suppose she could appeal to her boss, tell him she doesn't want to work with me, and have another editor assigned. I've heard of that happening a time or two (not with me), but that seems extreme. We don't hate each other. She even thinks I'm funny in a strange sort of way. And I think she's a lovely lady (I use that word because she truly strikes me as a lady). Besides, as she's already told me, never in her career has she refused to work with an author, and she doesn't want to start with me.

So where does that leave us? I asked this question of my writer's group the other day (mostly because this is the kind of stuff we talk about) and I was surprised by their responses. Most of them advised me to refuse to work with the editor and demand someone I could develop a rapport with. I had to admit, I was surprised. Where did this attitude of entitlement come from? And I'm not just talking about writers. Why do we feel if something is too hard, or if someone isn't exactly easy to work with, that we should just abandon it all together?

Not meshing with someone isn't a good enough reason to freak out and get all demanding, especially for a writer. Life's not always easy. Things aren't always ideal. In fact, things are rarely ideal. In this particular case, the editor and I don't love each other, but we're both professionals. If she does her job, and I do my job, and we use a lot of email instead of phone calls (because emails can be less grating), then this editing process will eventually go away.

So what am I saying? Mostly that when a writer and an editor have a personality clash, it's time to put on your big girl panties and just deal with it. The editor can't rewrite your entire book, and he or she isn't out to make your life miserable. They're doing their jobs. Writers, myself included, owe them the same courtesy.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have phone calls to not make. Mustn't talk to people, after all. It would spoil my hermit-like image.

Poems: Before You Fall

Another poem I wrote when I was a teenager, this one after a friend of mine attempted suicide twice. Luckily, she made it through and today we're the best of friends.

I know you've thought of it before,

But always you've found a thing to live for.

I know your pain right now seems endless,

But you are loved and surely not friendless.

 

Come back from the edge, please do not stay,

I promise you now it will all be okay.

But this thing you're doing, it cannot be fixed.

Just give it a chance, don't stand there transfixed.

 

Before you fall, let me share one thing,

And perhaps my words can still give you wings.

I tell you right now, we all still do care.

If we didn't, why would we despair?

 

You must come away, for you are our friend,

And how will we feel if our hope should end?

Your life can be anything, it's just what you make it,

So listen to me, and please do not take it.

Poems: Brighter Tomorrow

I don't remember when I wrote this one. In between relationships when I was a teenager, I think. At least, it was in the filing cabinet with the other poems I wrote as a teenager.

The breeze is brisk and yet it's still warm,

Now I can see what once was a storm.

Hopes, dreams, and promises never intended to hold,

Will see a new day and tomorrows untold.

 

I can see a new hope for the things that might be,

Even if we cannot quite agree.

We're growing stronger with each new breath,

We can rise above all the sadness and death.

 

I'll try more to listen and not always speak,

You should try too, it won't make you weak.

Share life with me, when it's all said and done,

And we'll find the peace of a new day begun.

 

We'll travel together, what a delight,

When we no longer worry who's wrong and who's right.

We'll fix our problems, we'll look within,

And come to the day when we love again.

 

With wishes and merriment in that day anew,

We'll make our lives about me and you.

Leave behind the trials and all of the sorrows,

And we will soon find a brighter tomorrow.