Some Facts about Working with an Editor

If you’ve never worked with an editor and you’re wondering things like what’s involved, how much it will cost, how long it will take, and other such aspects, here are some helpful facts for you to know.  

First, it’s important that you understand what an editor can and should do for you and your manuscript, whether it’s fiction or non-fiction, which includes memoir.

Editors understand that all writing, in the end, involves two people: The writer and the reader, even though others, such as an editor, may be involved in the process. Writers write for a number of personal or professional reasons, but the ultimate desired result should be to do as good a job as possible communicating to readers what the writer intended, whether that’s to inform or to provide a story that entertains or touches readers’ emotions or thoughts. This is where editors come in handy.

Writers have something to say. Yet, they may or may not be as adept at writing as they’d like to be—or think they are. As an editor I’m conscientious of the needs of writers and the rights of readers who have certain expectations. Readers expect content that’s free of typos (as much as possible) and free of any other technical or creative aspects that might negatively affect their reading experience. An editor helps a writer write in a way that holds the attention of readers, rather than distracts readers or discourages them from finishing the book, e-book, or short story.

Although many writers have developed their skills and writing as a craft, we all have trouble at times saying exactly what we mean. We know what we mean to say, but may not accomplish this in the way we hoped. Or maybe we have so much information in our minds, we assume—incorrectly—that others have access to our intended meanings. All writers benefit by caring about the overall quality of their work, which goes way beyond commas being in the right place.

Working with an Editor

Editing styles are as individual as editors are. If you sent your manuscript to three different editors, some editing would be the same and some wouldn’t, because you’re dealing with individuals who have their preferred editing styles. But, there are rules for writing, which exist for good reason, and an editor knows which ones must be followed and which ones can slide a bit—as long as this adds to the content and tone, rather than detracts from it.

And, each writer has a distinctive voice, which must or should be respected. This doesn’t mean that—if you’ll pardon the expression—sloppy writing should be left as is. A good editor can help a writer create clean, crisp sentences and paragraphs AND keep the voice and tone intact. Working with an editor can help you move from talent alone into someone who gains confidence in the craft of writing.

Some common matters editors put their attention on include:

• How the story or content is organized and if it flows well from start to finish
• The “voice” and tone
• Active rather than passive voice (passive voice has its purpose at times, but not as often as some writers use it or misuse it)
• Specific words or sentence construction that may cause confusion
• Tense consistency
• Technical matters such as punctuation, and so on
• Inconsistencies in the story or content
• Basic formatting: indents, no spaces between paragraphs, proper dialogue formatting, only one space between the punctuation mark at the end of a sentence and the first letter of the next sentence, and so forth
• Enough information or plot and character development is provided to fulfill readers’ expectations
• The way the piece ends completes what came before it

Revisions

All authors revise their manuscript, or should, and it usually takes a few or several revisions to get a manuscript into ready-to-go form. I read where one New York Times best-selling author said he often does ten or more revisions before he’s happy enough with his draft to send it to his publishing editor. Not all writers feel that way or require that many revisions. But that author has a point. Many new or uninitiated writers believe one revision (possibly two) should do it. I can tell you from experience that an editor who works on a manuscript that needs substantial revision knows that it will read quite differently once revised. And, it’s possible that the revision, and ones that follow, may (usually do) show what else can be done to improve the manuscript, until it’s the best it can be.

I’ve had clients who went through one round of editing with me, made revisions, but didn’t have me or a proofreader check their work (or had a beta reader go through it and give feedback) before they self-published or submitted to an agent or publisher—and it was too soon to do that. And, although I appreciate when clients include my name as editor in their self-published book, it’s awkward if they publish it with issues I never had the opportunity to assist them to address. Give your editor a chance to help both you, as the writer, and your book, e-book, or short story to shine.

In my nearly 20 years as a conceptual editor, I’ve seen the following—and more:

• Beautiful literary writing (but not often, because that’s not a popular or typical style of writing these days)
• Manuscripts that were one “paragraph,” meaning the writer never created paragraphs
• Stream-of-consciousness writing, with no regard for technical or creative matters or logical content organization
• Really creative writing with fair technical aspects
• Really creative writing with poor technical aspects
• Compelling stories from writers with no grasp of creative or technical aspects
• And I’ve seen all of my clients learn a lot through my efforts and guidance. Some self-publish and some get agents and publishing contracts. A few regular clients don’t worry about technical matters (and to some extent, creative matters), because they rely on me to address them, even down to performing more as a ghost rewriter than as solely an editor.

What about cost?

It’s best if I’m candid with you, because this is important for you to understand. The better writer you are the less will be required from your editor. The less required from your editor the less the cost for his or her services performed on your behalf. A good editor cares about your work almost as much as you do, and works hard to help you make it the best writing it can be. Cost for this service must be anticipated. If budget is a concern, look for an editor who offers a budget-friendly arrangement. This doesn’t mean they’ll charge less for their services, but that they’ll work with you on how and when payments are made.

What about time involved?

Again, it all depends on what the editor finds in the manuscript, as well as the length of the manuscript. Editors need to go through your manuscript twice—or should, the first time they edit your manuscript and every time they work on a revision. One thing you don’t want to do is rush your editor. Your editor must integrate your story or content as a whole, as well as focus on creative and technical matters. This kind of work is comprehensive and gets tiring after several hours. The brain needs to rest and recharge.

Cost for editing is definitely something writers are concerned about and should plan for. They should also plan for how they may feel when their manuscript comes back from the editor, especially the first time. Below are two comments from clients. The first comment is from a first-time writer; the second comment is from a first-time client who is a self-published author who wanted to go the traditional route.

“Thank you for the work you have done on my memoir manuscript. I hadn't realized how much I needed you until I had done my part of the editing process based on your suggestions and guidance. Initially, I glanced at your Technicolor superimposed indictment of my efforts and I was stupefied and rather offended: my book and I were under attack. Almost immediately, I tucked you under my wing to keep you close because you were consistently on target. Working with you has also inspired me to get going on my next book, which will be fiction, as soon as we’re finished with this one.”

“You were able to take my gibberish and convolution of uncoordinated words and transform the manuscript into a tight presentation that attracted three offers for publication. You identified my weaknesses in pacing and character development and taught me how to turn these faults into strengths. My experience with you will give me an improved chance to succeed in this brutal industry.”

When you find an editor you trust and feel comfortable working with, you’ve added someone significant to your team, someone who cares about your work almost as much as you do and is willing to go the distance with you, to make your dream as a writer become your reality.

I wish you the best with your writing and progress.

Joyce L. Shafer provides conceptual editing, book evaluation, and writing coaching services, especially but not solely, for new writers. Details about her services, plus her e-book for aspiring and new writers—Write, Get Published, and Promote and her special reports—How to Get an Agent for Your Book or Choose Self-Publishing Instead: Tips, Lists, and More and How to Get Your Book Started: Plan Your Work Then Work Your Plan are available at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/. 

How to Get an Agent for Your Book or Choose Self-Publishing Instead

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Go to http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/bookstore.html to order your copy now! Order directly from me on this page Mon.-Fri. between 9:30 a.m.–4:30 p.m. Central Time, 9:30 a.m.-12:00 p.m. Sat. 

Setting the Scene: Fiction and Non-Fiction (and Memoirs)

Scene setting, whether that’s for fiction or non-fiction, which includes memoir, is all-important to give readers a sense of time and place as they read. And, you want to provide setting early in each scene or segment, and as you go.

You can provide scene setting through narrative, as well as dialogue. And you need to provide the setting each time characters shift from one scene to another. You never want to leave readers “wandering in the dark,” with no idea where they, through the characters (or the non-fiction writer), are or should be. When you write in first person, your main character (or you as the “star of your show”) provides this information. In third person, the narrator (you) does this.

Here’s a two-paragraph example of first-person fiction from best-selling author James Lee Burke (indents removed for my publishing purposes):

I drove home at 5 p.m. and parked my pickup truck under the porte cochere attached to the shotgun house where Molly and I live in what is called the historical district of New Iberia. Our home is a modest one compared to the Victorian and antebellum structures that define most of East Main, but nonetheless it is a beautiful old place, built of cypress and oak, long and square in shape, like a boxcar, with high ceilings and windows, a small gallery and peaked tin roof, and ventilated green shutters that you can latch over the glass during hurricane season.

The flower beds are planted with azaleas, lilies, hibiscus, philodendron, and rosebushes in the sun and caladiums and hydrangeas in the shade. The yard is over an acre in size and covered with pecan trees, slash pine, and live oaks. The back of the property slopes down to the Teche, and late at night barges and tugboats with green and red running lights drone heavily through the drawbridge at Burke Street on their way to Morgan City. At early dawn there is often ground fog in the trees and on the bayou, and inside it you can sometimes hear a gator flopping or ducks wimpling the shallows.

Burke’s setting gives you a good sense of his home and property and the neighborhood. You can practically see the plants and trees—smell the flowers and appreciate their varied colors and shapes. You can easily imagine yourself lying in bed there at night with the windows open, hearing the sounds created by nature and man.

Setting the scene also allows you to either play out a scene as it happens or summarize what happened, say, the previous night, rather than playing out the scene from the previous night. When this is done, it’s important that whatever is conveyed moves the present story forward. Here’s an example:

Mack’s eyes opened. It took a few seconds for him to remember where he was—he groaned. At the restaurant the night before, Karla had returned to the table and packed up her food in silence. The ride in the pickup truck to the motel was made in silence. She’d carried her small duffle bag and took her room key from him, again, in silence then slammed her motel room door, causing several people to stick their heads out of their own doors to see what was going on and to frown at Mack.

Although the scene above wasn’t played out in “real-time,” you can easily grasp mood; that something happened at the restaurant the previous night, something that caused Karla to stop speaking to Mack—which is unlike her usual chatty self, and to express her feelings by slamming her room door with a great deal of energy. You get enough information to picture a single-story motel at night in your mind, cars parked in front of rooms, doors opening and people looking out to see what’s going on. You even get a sense of what the rooms may be like, based on your own experiences possibly, even though the interior isn’t mentioned.

Time of day and days of the week are something most stories benefit from including as part of scene setting. We all relate to time and timing. The way to do this is to have a system for tracking these. You don’t want to get confused or confuse readers about how much time has passed, or get so confused (or careless) that you mess it up and cause readers to think, “Hey, wait a minute.” I’ve worked with clients who did not pay attention to time and timing, and even as the editor, I had no sense of when (time of day or time intervals) events happened. This can cause the writer to have a character go outside to get something from his car in the morning, which takes just a few minutes, and then suddenly it’s nearly midnight, with no transition provided to justify the time leap. Hours disappear at random, not as part of the plot, but because the writer wasn’t paying attention to the plot and timing thread.

Sometimes the simplest way to start to set a scene is to give the time of day or tell how much time as passed. Examples include:

• It was 9 a.m., and Mary was still asleep.
• Marcus parked his car in front of their house and dialed Mary’s cell phone number. Ten minutes later, Mary, breathless from rushing, got into his car.
• Three minutes after Marcus and Mary headed south on Main Street, their house exploded, sending orange and blue flames and a black cloud of smoke over the treetops, and car alarms screeching.

Here’s a three-paragraph example of setting scene while the characters are directly involved, which is from a novel by Elizabeth George. It’s British, so some of the terms are different—boot rather than trunk (of a car) and torch rather than flashlight, and towards rather than toward, for example. You can see how E. George creates setting as she moves these two characters closer to their destination (indents removed for my publishing purposes).

Robin slowed his Escort perhaps a half mile beyond this village. When he made a right turn, it was into a lane so narrow and overgrown that Barbara knew she would not have been able to distinguish it from the rest of the night-shrouded landscape had she been alone. This lane began to rise quickly towards the east, bound on one side by the glitter of wire fencing, bound on the other by a line of silver birches. The roadway was potted by craters. And the field beyond the fencing was knotted by weeds.

They came to a break in the birches, and Robin turned into it, onto a track that jostled them over boulders and through ruts. The trees were thick here but shaped by generations of wind; they loomed over the track like sailors bending into a storm.

The track ended at a fence of wire and posts. To their right, an old rail gate hung at an angle like a listing boat, and it was to this gate that Robin led Barbara, after rooting through the Escort’s boot and bringing out a torch, which he handed over to her. He himself took out a camping lantern, slinging it over his arm and saying, “It’s just this way.”

Look at how much is provided in this example above: the characters involved, the car they’re riding in, distance, and lay of the land. When the driver makes turns, you make the turns as well. In your imagination, you create a narrow lane with potholes and ruts and overgrowth on both sides of the car. You know it’s nighttime, and that’s they’re in a remote area. When the lane rises, you can relate to what that feels and looks like. Re-read those paragraphs and see how much of the setting plays out in your mind. Feel the mood of how this scene is set. Even if you don’t know the whole story, you can tell it’s not a lighthearted or comedic experience. Is there anything you think you’d remove from this scene because it’s extraneous? I’m willing to say, “Likely not.” George set the scene well. It’s crisp and concise and informative, without too much detail.

Can you see how, why, when, and how much setting may be necessary to make a fiction or non-fiction—including a memoir book a more engaging read? It’s all story. And story is what readers look for, no matter the genre or topic of a book.

I wish you the best with your writing and progress.

Need a Book Doctor or an incentive to write or complete your manuscript? Let Joyce L. Shafer be your writing coach, developmental editor, or provide a critique. Details about her services at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/

How One New Writer Became a Best-Selling Author

There’s a PBS program called Well Read that comes on before six in the morning in my neck of the woods. The program starts with host, Terry Taziolli, interviewing an author about his or her latest book, with some discussion about any prior books, as well as the author’s process. After the interview segment, Mary Ann Gwinn and Taziolli discuss several books selected by Gwinn, which are based on a theme inspired by the interviewed author’s book. If you’ve never watched Well Read, it’s certainly worth it for book lovers. You learn about favorite and unknown-to-you authors and discover books you can hardly wait to read.

One morning the guest author was Tom Rachman, who despite his huge success with his first novel, I’d never heard of. His second novel was being featured, but his best-selling first novel was also discussed, as well as his process that led him to best-seller status with that book. I decided to start with his first novel, The Imperfectionists—and ordered it, which is how I found his comments I’ve shared below.

  

Tom Rachman on The Imperfectionists

I grew up in peaceful Vancouver with two psychologists for parents, a sister with whom I squabbled in the obligatory ways, and an adorably dim-witted spaniel whose leg waggled when I tickled his belly. Not the stuff of literature, it seemed to me.

During university, I had developed a passion for reading: essays by George Orwell, short stories by Isaac Bashevis Singer, novels by Tolstoy. By graduation, books had shoved aside all other contenders. A writer—perhaps I could become one of those.

There was a slight problem: my life to date.

By 22, I hadn't engaged in a bullfight. I'd not kept a mistress or been kept by one. I'd never been stabbed in a street brawl. I'd not been mistreated by my parents, or addicted to anything sordid. I'd never fought a duel to the death with anyone.

It was time to remedy this. Or parts of it, anyway. I would see the world, read, write, and pay my bills in the process. My plan was to join the press corps, to become a foreign correspondent, to emerge on the other side with handsome scars, mussed hair, and a novel.

Years passed. I worked as an editor at the Associated Press in New York, venturing briefly to South Asia to report on war (from a very safe distance; I was never brave). Next, I was dispatched to Rome, where I wrote about the Italian government, the Mafia, the Vatican, and other reliable sources of scandal.

Suddenly—too soon for my liking—I was turning thirty. My research, I realized, had become alarmingly similar to a career. To imagine a future in journalism, a trade that I had never loved, terrified me.

So, with a fluttery stomach, I handed in my resignation, exchanging a promising job for an improbable hope. I took my life savings and moved to Paris, where I knew not a soul and whose language I spoke only haltingly. Solitude was what I sought: a cozy apartment, a cup of tea, my laptop. I switched it on. One year later, I had a novel.

And it was terrible.

My plan—all those years in journalism—had been a blunder, it seemed. The writing I had aspired to do was beyond me. I lacked talent. And I was broke.

Dejected, I nursed myself with a little white wine, goat cheese and baguette then took the subway to the International Herald Tribune on the outskirts of Paris to apply for a job. Weeks later, I was seated at the copy desk, composing headlines and photo captions, aching over my failure. I had bungled my twenties. I was abroad, lonely, stuck.

But after many dark months, I found myself imagining again. I strolled through Parisian streets, and characters strolled through my mind, sat themselves down, folded their arms before me, declaring, "So, do you have a story for me?"

I switched on my computer and tried once more.

This time, it was different. My previous attempt hadn't produced a book, but it had honed my technique. And I stopped fretting about whether I possessed the skill to become a writer, and focused instead on the hard work of writing. Before, I had winced at every flawed passage. Now, I toiled with my head down, rarely peeking at the words flowing across the screen.

I revised, I refined, I tweaked, I polished. Not until exhaustion—not until the novel that I had aspired to write was very nearly the one I had produced—did I allow myself to assess it.

To my amazement, a book emerged. I remain nearly incredulous that my plan, hatched over a decade ago, came together. At times, I walk to the bookshelf at my home in Italy, take down a copy of The Imperfectionists, double-check the name on the spine: Tom Rachman. Yes, I think that's me.

In the end, my travels included neither bullfights nor duels. And the book doesn't, either. Instead, it contains views over Paris, cocktails in Rome, street markets in Cairo; the ruckus of an old-style newsroom and the shuddering rise of technology; a foreign correspondent faking a news story, a media executive falling for the man she just fired. And did I mention a rather adorable if slobbery dog?

***

Many who decide to be authors would have given up had they been in Rachman’s shoes. A true writer—who must write as much as breathe—demonstrates what it can sometimes take. What it takes is what Rachman said: “I stopped fretting about whether I possessed the skill to become a writer, and focused instead on the hard work of writing.”

Writing is an art and a craft. Sometimes new writers forget that latter part. They figure all they need to do is put down whatever they’re thinking and voila!—they have the next best-selling novel that leads to movie rights. There’s a bit more to it than that. It’s a great dream, and there’s nothing wrong with having that dream, but for the dream to have the potential to be realized, it needs substance, a strong foundation, to be built upon.

Writing fiction or non-fiction requires creative and technical skills, not just one or the other. If you’re a master at punctuation and subject-verb agreement but can’t tell a story in a cohesive and engaging fashion, your technical skills don’t matter. If you can tell a story well, but don’t have any or enough technical skills, your work will be difficult to read, because it won’t flow as a movie in the minds of readers. No agent will represent (and may not even read) a manuscript filled with obvious, and especially egregious, creative and technical issues. If you self-publish, a book with these issues will not endear you to readers.

Never hesitate to learn more about the art and craft of writing. Yes, you can hire a developmental editor to help you polish it, but why not gain confidence as a writer. If you want more confidence, hone your skills.

I wish you the best with your writing and progress.

Need a Book Doctor or an incentive to write or complete your manuscript? Let Joyce L. Shafer be your writing coach, developmental editor, or provide a critique. Details about her services at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/

Writing Tense

Writing tense doesn’t refer to how tense a writer may feel when writing, but is instead about the tense the story is written in. There are a few no-no’s about this that writers, especially new writers, should be aware of.  

It doesn’t occur often, but occasionally a client sends me a manuscript written in a moment-by-moment manner, as the story is supposed to be happening. Example: Mary walks into the room and looks around. She sees the vase has been moved and puts it back into its proper place. Mary then walks to the sofa and adjusts one of the pillows.

Sorry, but this is not a novel—it’s stage directions for a play. And this is never ever how a novel should read. An acquaintance shared that an agent told him his manuscript would never be considered as long as it’s written in this manner. His is a compelling story (based on the few chapters he let me read); but until he revises it, it will stay a file on his computer and an unfulfilled dream, unless he self-publishes it as is, which is not a good idea.

A client who wrote her novel this way approached me initially for a critique (developmental evaluation). Among other creative and technical suggestions, I advised her to revise the entire manuscript so it was in the proper tense and so that proper editing could be done. Yes, I could have rewritten it for her as part of developmental editing services instead of a critique, but that would have taken a good deal of time and expense; plus, she learned a great deal from the revision experience. Her book has an agent’s interest, which would not have happened otherwise.    

I ask you to consider why people read novels (and non-fiction) of any genre—it’s so they are taken into a mental/emotional space different from the one they're in. They want to sit back and let the story be a movie in their minds. A novel written in present tense (action as it happens) does something specific: it requires the reader to work. It's akin to asking a viewer to watch a movie on the screen and act out the parts of the characters at the same time, rather than sit back, watch, think, and feel. 

This writing style (and a few others) does something specific: It takes readers out of the reading experience they expect to have. This is not something readers appreciate. Readers prefer not to be reminded they're reading. They want the story to engage them, yes, but not in this way. A balance has to happen with writing—what's good for the writer and what's good for the reader. If only the writer is satisfied, this does not bode well for the book or the writer.

Anything that takes readers out of the reading experience is best avoided (writing style, typos, seriously misused punctuation, junk words, extraneous scenes and dialogue, etc.). You do have to trust your head-and-heart alignment about your writing, but you also benefit from paying attention to readers' responses to it, which includes responses from a developmental editor, whose primary concern is or should be to help you make your book the best it can be.

One client wrote a short story as part of a collective and did use as-it’s-happening narrative in that one instance. But we handled this in a specific way: We made it a news-type story delivered by a narrator, which was integral to the story, and is akin to listening to an announcer on the radio. Had it not been crafted this way, it wouldn’t have worked and would have contrasted with the other stories in the book that were written in the proper tense. It’s one thing to do this in a way that works for a short story and another for a lengthier novel. You don’t want to wear readers out while reading, if they’ll stick with it, that is.

I say this because I'm not just a developmental editor. I'm also an avid reader of many fiction and non-fiction genres. If the way a fiction or non-fiction book is written (which includes memoirs) annoys me, I won’t read it (it’s different, of course, if I’m wearing my editor cap). I’ve been trying to slog through a book someone gifted me with that annoys me no end to read. Nearly every sentence—and this is not an exaggeration—starts with a gerund or a participle. There are other annoying factors, but this one really stymies my ability to get through the book to learn what the author meant to convey. (Example: Understanding a choice had to be made Mary walked to the window and looked out. Realizing the choice wouldn’t be easy she stared out the window, yet saw nothing. Walking to the door she put her hand on the knob and paused. Turning the knob she walked out; her decision made. Knowing what she had to do, she dialed Mike’s phone number. Hearing him answer after the first ring, she hesitated.) Perhaps you can see how tedious it becomes to read something written in this way. And, sadly, it seems it could be a good book (based on the relatively few pages I’ve managed to read), if only an editor had advised the writer properly.

Let’s get back to writing tense. It’s also important that you don’t change tense in narrative, something I have seen a few writers do. (Example: Mary walked into the room and looked around. She sees the vase has been moved and puts it back into its proper place.) You can shift tense in dialogue because people do speak in past, present, and future tense; but you have to stick to one tense—the right tense—in narrative. Now, relax and write tense well.

I wish you the best with your writing and progress.

Need a Book Doctor or an incentive to write or complete your manuscript? Let Joyce L. Shafer be your writing coach, developmental editor, or provide a critique. Details about her services at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/

Characters and Dialogue

A novel, and even a memoir, will have characters and dialogue. You want to make sure dialogue is easy to read, sounds natural, and does what it’s meant to.

Good character development in fiction includes making characters’ voices so distinctive that readers can tell who’s talking without attributes. I’m not saying that’s required or suggested (see an example at the end), just that it’s a good ideal to keep in mind. What I mean by “voice” is what a character says and how s/he says it. How do you accomplish this, you ask? Know your characters well.

A character’s voice will be influenced by education or lack of it; their past and current place in society; region where they grew up; prejudices; and desires for themselves and their lives. What drives a character will drive their thoughts, feelings, words, and actions. Fictional characters, just as real people, are molded by the environment where they grew up and currently find themselves in. This is colored by personal and indoctrinated beliefs and personal intentions, as well as the vernacular and familiar sayings they heard while growing up and may still hear or use. Yet, even if a number of your characters grew up in the same area, culture, or even home, they will still each have a distinctive voice when they think, speak, or write. Each character’s attitude is as unique and distinctive as each real person’s is.

Once you get the voice down for each character, you then need to focus on dialogue that goes on between characters. Dialogue is a great way to provide information to other characters (and readers) rather than use exposition/narrative to do this. Dialogue needs to move everything and everyone forward and must never drag characters, plot, and pace down.

Dialogue reveals the relationship between characters: Good, bad, or indifferent. Dialogue makes characters come to life on the pages so it must be realistic and come across as natural for each character. This is where dialogue can get tricky. You see, it has to sound natural, but cannot mimic the way people actually speak with all their um’s, uh’s, oh’s, wow’s, okay’s, and so forth (junk words), especially at the starts of dialogue sentences. This is how people speak, but it makes dialogue in novels clunky, tedious, and tiresome.  

Real people may start and stop when they speak, but fictional characters should be allowed minimal opportunity (or reason) to do that. Dialogue that mimics the way many people speak would wear a reader out, not to mention use up page space (in an annoying way) and drag plot and character development, and pace, way down. That’s not good. The exception is if you have a character that is a teen or from a social culture that, like, you know, like, uses a lot of, you know, words like, you know, “like” and “you know.”

Along with giving each character a distinctive voice and making all dialogue sound natural, you need to be certain that ALL dialogue reveals more about what a character is thinking, feeling, and doing as well as moves the plot forward. It must also convey what’s happening in a particular scene and only that scene, but must always relate to the plot (no scene should be included that doesn’t relate to plot and/or character development in some significant way). Dialogue lets you build tension, as needed. If any dialogue does not fulfill these functions, you need to either rewrite it or delete it.

Even with characters’ distinctive voices, what they say needs to be succinct, and fit their personality. A character that is an adventurous type or thrill-seeker is not going to speak the same way a shy character or one who has a deep feeling of duty and responsibility will. It’s also important to realize that people don’t always say precisely what they feel or mean. Often, people speak in subtext, that is, in a roundabout manner, rather than directly to the point. Subtext dialogue demonstrates what is actually going on between two or more characters. You’ve seen this before: A man and woman snipe at each other for pages and pages, the tension builds, and then they kiss, go on a date, or hop into the sack. Despite what their dialogue included, feelings of love or lust were building under the surface of what they said. Of course, it could be apathy or rage that’s building through subtext. The thing to remember with subtext is that you want to demonstrate it through what is said and not through attributions, also known as tag lines (e.g., he said with anger/she said with great passion).

When it comes to attributions/tag lines the simpler the better. Words like said, asked, answered, and replied do something remarkable and wonderful in a novel: They disappear for readers so that only what’s said or asked registers in their minds. You can use other words like moaned, groaned, shouted, sneered, and so forth if they truly add to the dialogue moment. Just know they’ll draw attention to themselves, which means that for even a brief moment (maybe longer), you’ll pull readers out of the reading experience—out of the movie in their minds—in order to focus on how you want them to hear what was said and interpret mood. It’s better if you use words and actions (things characters do while they speak so they aren’t taking heads on a page) that convey mood.

Dialogue may also lead you to deal with dialect. There’s a school of thought that you should indicate dialect then avoid using phonetic and misspelled words afterwards so that writing and reading it is not tedious. And yet we have success stories like Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn written entirely in dialect. And, which Harry Potter fan can imagine Hagrid speaking without dialect. It’s recommended that you suggest dialect rather than use it throughout the manuscript, but use your best judgment about this. If done well, and you feel it’s important for the story, it will add to the story in the way you intend. If you intend to submit to agents, they’ll let you know if they believe it works or not (but listen to your gut—again, imagine if Rowling’s agent had said to get rid of Hagrid’s dialect or if Huck Finn spoke like a well-educated lad). If you decide to use dialect throughout, create a list for yourself so that each time you use words, you’re consistent with the misspellings, and manners of speech.

One more thing about dialogue: Avoid overuse of characters’ names, both in dialogue and in attributions. Make it clear initially who is speaking and use names only if truly needed. You don’t want dialogue to read as follows:

“Hi, Mark. How’s it going today?” Sally said.

“Hi, Sally. It’s going well,” Mark replied.

“Have you had lunch yet, Mark?” Sally asked.
“No, Sally. I haven’t, but I was thinking about it,” Mark answered.

Better:

“Hi, Mark. How’s it going today?” Sally said.

“It’s going well.”

“Have you had lunch yet?”

“No, but I was thinking about it.”

Or:

“Hi, Mark. How’s it going today?”

“Hi, Sally. It’s going well.”

“Have you had lunch yet?”

“No, but I was thinking about it.”

These are not examples of stimulating dialogue, but they get the point across. Because of the way the first sentence or first two sentences are set up, you have no problem tracking who’s speaking. And keep in mind what I said: no talking heads. Even though these examples don’t provide actions for the characters, give them some actions, even small ones, while they speak. Sally might pause and shuffle her feet or fiddle with her hair or pick up something of Mark’s and put it back before or after she asks if he’s had lunch. Mark might lean back in his chair when Sally first speaks to him or before he answers her.

Have fun with your characters and what they say as they and you move your story from one moment and scene to the next and the plot forward to its rewarding conclusion.

I wish you the best with your writing and progress.

Need a Book Doctor or an incentive to write or complete your manuscript? Let Joyce L. Shafer be your writing coach, developmental editor, or provide a critique. Details about her services at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/

The Importance of Setting in a Fiction or Nonfiction Book

Setting is integral to story, just as the characters and plot/theme are. Setting is about balance: you don’t want to give too little description and you don’t want to overdo it.

Setting is where the story and each scene take place, which you know. But do you grasp that setting can set the tone and mood readers experience, and can reveal and or trigger characters’ moods? You want to give enough (not too much) description for each scene to set the appearance, atmosphere, and mood for readers so they are clear enough in their own minds about the general or specific image you intend for them to have. It may help to create a list or essay description for your scenes (like a character sketch) and keep these handy so you stay consistent throughout the scenes and story.

Give places texture through description. Here’s an example from a James Lee Burke novel:  

“They drove back onto the four-lane and crossed the bridge over the wide sweep of the Atchafalaya River. From the bridge’s apex, Morgan City looked like a Caribbean port, with its palm-dotted streets, red-tiled roofs, biscuit-colored stucco buildings, and shotgun houses fronted by ceiling-high windows and ventilated green shutters.”

As I said, it doesn’t have to be overdone, just give readers something that helps them form an adequate image in their minds and sets mood and atmosphere—and gives them a sense of place.

Here’s another example from a James Lee Burke novel that puts “place” to where his main character lives: 

“I drove home at 5 p.m. and parked my pickup truck under the porte cochere attached to the shotgun house where Molly and I live in what is called the historical district of New Iberia. Our home is a modest one compared to the Victorian and antebellum structures that define most of East Main, but nonetheless it is a beautiful old place, built of cypress and oak, long and square in shape, like a boxcar, with high ceilings and windows, a small gallery and peaked tin roof, and ventilated green shutters that you can latch over the glass during hurricane season.

The flower beds are planted with azaleas, lilies, hibiscus, philodendron, and rosebushes in the sun and caladiums and hydrangeas in the shade. The yard is over an acre in size and covered with pecan trees, slash pine, and live oaks. The back of the property slopes down to the Teche, and late at night barges and tugboats with green and red running lights drone heavily through the drawbridge at Burke Street on their way to Morgan City. At early dawn there is often ground fog in the trees and on the bayou, and inside it you can sometimes hear a gator flopping or ducks wimpling the shallows.”

You want to make the inner and outer landscapes in your story as real as possible for readers. You want readers to feel as if they’ve been there, to feel connection to the story through location. They want to feel this, too. If you intend to or are writing a series with the same character or characters, you will have to describe some settings (and character descriptions) in each book, when appropriate, but with only enough information to give adequate description to new readers and refresh memories for those who follow the series.

A character’s scene setting can influence or reveal something about his or her internal landscape, as well. How you do this is more important than what you use to do it with. Here’s an example from an Elizabeth George novel (British—so spellings of some words are different):

            She parked the Mini with one of its front tyres on the kerb and went to see what the Breakwater had to offer. Not much, she discovered, a fact that other diners must have been aware of, because although it was the dinner hour, she found herself alone in the restaurant. She chose a table near the door in the hope of catching an errant sea breeze should one fortuitously decide to blow. She plucked the laminated menu from its upright position next to a vase of plastic carnations. After using it to fan herself for a minute, she gave it a look-over and decided that the Mega-Meal was not for her despite its bargain price (£5.50 for port sausage, bacon, tomato, eggs, mushrooms, steak, frankfurter, kidney, hamburger, lamb chops, and chips). She settled on the restaurant’s declared specialty: buck rarebit. She placed her order with a teenaged waitress sporting an impressive blemish precisely in the middle of her chin, and a moment later she saw that the Breakwater Restaurant was going to provide her with its own form of one-stop shopping.  [My note: She found a current newspaper with an article she needed to read on the front page.]

Look at the extraordinary amount of information revealed in that paragraph. You get a sense of so many things: what a traditional or culture-based meal might include; approximate time of day; either she’s a poor car parker or didn’t bother about parking better on this occasion (has a lot on her mind, perhaps; but if she does this often, you have a sense of what kind of ride her Mini is and its condition); she picked a place to eat that obviously is not a local favorite (is her choice because of location, unfamiliarity with the area, that’s she’s on a tight budget, is a spendthrift?); it’s hot as heck—she sat by the window, hoping for a breeze; the description of the menu (laminated) and the plastic carnations give visual images and an indication about what kind of place this is (service and food quality); she finds something there she needs other than just something to eat: a current newspaper. Of course, if you read this particular novel or the series it’s part of, you know the answers to the questions in parentheses; but you can see how much information is provided by setting the scene, even in one paragraph.

Always give readers a physical location to “land” in (including an address with a made-up numeral; though, a numeral isn’t always needed, as in the Burke example). You can boost sense of place if you use street names and highway names and their numbers—to make the story more realistic for readers. For example, Rex Stout placed the house of his orchid-growing detective, Nero Wolfe, at an address on West 35^th Street in Manhattan. The number part of the address, if real, would be in the Hudson River, but even though some readers may be aware of this (or not), they can identify with the surroundings or look up the street on a map so they get a sense of the neighborhood and where it fits in the layout of Manhattan. You may also have to make up brick-and-mortar businesses, etc., but keep these as realistically located as possible, if you’re using a real location.

How you handle setting matters because clarity is imperative. Everything you write creates a sequence of scenes in the minds of readers—they are experiencing a number of things simultaneously, so you must present them with information in a proper, reliable order. It’s mind-boggling as a reader (and as a developmental editor) to approach a scene and have the terrain alter from the original image the writer created in your mind as you move through the scene. One client didn’t have a particular scene setting clear in his mind, so just kept adding what he thought would be interesting or challenging for the characters in the scene (I was utterly confused about what the setting was supposed to look like, which I explained to the client). This kind of disorganized, willy-nilly scene creation makes readers (and editors) feel as though they were plucked from a stable environment and dropped into an altered reality. Unless your novel is about altered realities, don’t do this to readers; and if it is, make sure you do this with skill and clarity. Also don’t have what characters need appear out of thin air. Say a character needs a hammer. Unless you’ve set up where the character gets the hammer from, don’t have one appear in his or her hand from nowhere (unless your character is a magician or wizard). Everything has to be logical, even in Science Fiction and Fantasy.

One thing you might do is take photos of exact locations or locations that resemble ones you wish to create or use in your story, including exterior and interior photos (get permission, if needed—but notes can always be made without permission). This way, you have references you can pull from for descriptions and how scenes unfold when the terrain is important to the scene. (Most businesses won’t mind if you give them good promotion in your novel, but they will mind if you don’t—so make one up, if it plays a negative role in the story.)

You want settings to be as clear and real as possible for readers so you maintain the integrity of the story and readers’ ability to follow and connect with the story, scene by scene.

I wish you the best with your writing, process, and progress.

Joyce Shafer

“Editor, Joyce Shafer. What can I say? Simply put, no Joyce, no book. Part editor, part coach, part teacher, Joyce was absolutely phenomenal throughout the entire editing process. Working with Joyce was like taking a graduate course in writing with your all-time favorite teacher and you were the only student. I just can't say enough good things. Allow me a shameless plug for her services. ~ Eric Berbig, Author of The People’s Will

Work with Joyce L. Shafer as your writing coach or developmental editor. Details about her services, including The Chapter-by-Chapter Get-Your-Book-Written Writer’s Incentive Coaching at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/

Don’t Put the Cart before the Horse with Your Manuscript

A writer, especially a new writer, is understandably excited and eager to get his/her manuscript to an agent for consideration or self-published. But, it’s imperative you submit writing that shows an agent there’s reason to be interested in you as a promising writer, or make certain it’s ready to self-publish.

As a writer, you are attached to your manuscript—your baby. I get that. As someone who provides services for writers, I get attached too . . . because I care deeply about assisting clients to have better experiences as writers, with their first and subsequent manuscripts.

If you, for whatever reason, don’t use the services of an editor, please let up to three people read through your manuscript and give feedback, before you send it to an agent or self-publish it. If this is something you don’t choose to do, or if you do, read your manuscript aloud to yourself—and not at a rapid pace, before you let anyone else read it. You will catch things you didn’t see before and you’ll also hear how it will sound in the minds of readers.

I’m not saying this because it’s what I do, but because it’s a fact: one thing every writer, especially a new writer, needs is a developmental editor s/he trusts. Here’s why—and it’s something from The Creative Penn I wish I’d written:

“My manuscript came back covered in red ink/littered with Track Changes. I’m really upset by the comments. How do I cope with the difficulty of being edited?

Okay, here’s the sad fact: If your editor is not returning a manuscript covered in red ink/littered with Track Changes, you need a new editor. That’s our job. Our number one goal is to make your work look brilliant. We aren’t judging you, we aren’t trying to make you look bad, and we certainly aren’t saying your writing isn’t fabulous. We’re saying: “Hey, good manuscript—here are the things you can/should do to make it even better.” Because that’s what you’re paying us to do.

It’s hard to divorce yourself from the emotional element of producing this creative work, and to begin to view your novel as a product (I know—I used the ‘P’ word) rather than the flesh of your flesh. The editing process, however, is a great place to start doing that.  Take a deep breath, recognize that all writers go through this pain, and try to listen objectively to what your editor is saying about your work.”

There are best-selling authors who do a number of revisions before they ever submit a manuscript to their publisher. Some do as many as ten revisions (some do more) before they even consider it submission-ready. And there are those like best-seller Elizabeth George who do all the preparation first, before ever starting the draft. George explained that when the manuscript for her first novel came back from her publisher, it was accompanied by forty or so pages of notes, and nearly all of them addressed character development. So she focused on improving her skill with this. Her second novel came back with around thirty pages of notes that mostly focused on developing setting; so she worked to improve that. She then created a system that allowed her to develop these (and all the scenes) prior to writing the draft because, she said, she wanted to avoid having that level of major revision, as much as possible, ever again. When she submitted her third novel, it was accepted as it was. She’d done the work beforehand and it paid off. (All writers have one or more people read what they’ve written before they send it to an agent, publisher, or self-publish it—or they should.)

Note: No matter how ready you or your editor feels your manuscript is for an agent to consider it, even if the agent loves what you’ve written, s/he may still make suggestions. And if a publisher picks you up as a writer, the editor assigned to you may make suggestions as well. It’s a fact of life in the industry.

After providing services to new writers for going on two decades, I can tell what level of skill and knowledge of the craft the writer has and can then base my recommendations on this. I do what I do not only to show them how to improve their manuscript but also to assist them to improve as a writer, which is what proper guidance should accomplish. Not all writers want this. They prefer to write and let their editor fix and polish what they wrote, a service that can, at times, border on ghost writing for the editor.

If you’ve yet to experience a revision, it’s a process of clearing out what doesn’t belong, filling in any gaps in plot and or character (or content for non-fiction) development, tightening the writing as needed, clearing up the technical matters (spelling, punctuation, etc.), possibly reorganizing the structure, and doing this until everything flows from start to finish. Sending your manuscript to an agent or self-publishing it before you are certain it ALL works is a disservice to you as a writer and the time, energy, and effort you put into your manuscript so far. It’s also a disservice to readers.

Okay, I understand that editing costs, especially developmental editing; and the cost is always a result of the level of service the editor has to provide. The better skilled the writer is the less time involved for the editor. But your editor can, will, or should be able to tell you when your manuscript is ready for either self-publishing or submission to an agent.

Too often, new writers believe they can make one revision to their work, based on their editor’s suggestions from that first viewing, and then deem the manuscript done—in final form—ready to go to an agent or be self-published. This may or may not be the case; it often isn’t. More often than not, one revision just gets the manuscript closer to where it deserves to go.

One of my clients made my suggested revisions, but did not send it to me to check it or to a proofreader before she put it into print. Not only are there major typos (and formatting issues), but some of my notes were left in, as well. This is something that can and should be avoided. Let’s face it: typos happen even in best-sellers, but some things should never be included in your final product, especially your editor’s notes to you.

One of the best things you can do for yourself and your manuscript is find a developmental editor you trust—whose services clearly demonstrate benefit to you as a writer and your work—and then listen to what s/he advises. If you work with an editor you trust, then also trust him or her to advise you as to when your manuscript is ready to go. I’m not saying don’t trust your instincts, but don’t send your submission to an agent or put the manuscript into print before it’s truly ready. You don’t want to overwork a manuscript, but it is never a good or wise idea to be in a rush with it either. Make your manuscript the best you can before you move it forward.

I wish you the best with your writing, process, and progress.

Joyce Shafer

“Editor, Joyce Shafer. What can I say? Simply put, no Joyce, no book. Part editor, part coach, part teacher, Joyce was absolutely phenomenal throughout the entire editing process. Working with Joyce was like taking a graduate course in writing with your all-time favorite teacher and you were the only student. I just can't say enough good things. Allow me a shameless plug for her services at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/ ~ Eric Berbig, Author of The People’s Will

Work with Joyce L. Shafer as your writing coach or developmental editor. Details about her services, including The Chapter-by-Chapter Get-Your-Book-Written Writer’s Incentive Coaching at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/

The Importance of Suspense in a Novel

What makes suspense work in a novel? There’s quite a lot to know about this, but here are some highlights.

Every story benefits from some level of suspense. Plot relies on it. For suspense to work well, readers have to care about or be curious about what will happen to one or more characters. This means that as important as plot and suspense are, characters are equally so because plot and suspense reveal the characters for who they really are and characters propel the plot forward, based on what they say or don’t and the actions they take or don’t. Suspense, as with anything, should never be used to fill space. It must be relevant to the story and relevant for the characters, based on their role in the story.

Readers may believe they know the characters you’ve created for them and will rely on them to be true to themselves, if you’ve developed them well, but readers still anticipate the feeling of suspense as they wonder what a character will say or do in certain circumstances. Think of it like baseball: as exciting as it is when the batter hits the ball, the real suspense happens in the moments that immediately follow the sound of the crack, when leather meets wood.

Suspense arises as a result of some form of conflict. Conflict in plot development works best when it shows up then builds, whether just in a particular scene or throughout the novel (though, every scene must contribute to the overall plot and character development). This may involve some form of danger, but it can also be an inner experience for a character as well.

Suspense is about risk, whether it’s between one or more characters or within the character. Suspense can be anything from a character in a darkened room becoming aware there is something or someone breathing heavily on the other side of the door, or how a character will perform in a personal challenge such as facing a job interview panel or facing an angry lion that needs to be re-captured, or the ten-year-old boy working up courage to confront a bully. It can include any resistance a character feels—toward themselves, one or more others, or life events. Resistance is often about characters facing their worst enemy—themselves, in whatever circumstance they find themselves in.  

Here’s the main purpose for suspense: to keep readers reading the book and not wanting to put it down. But, suspense and conflict do not have to come from one dastardly event occurring right after another, like Dominoes falling. Suspense has all to do with the structure of the novel. Relevant and even life-changing events, wrapped in their own form of suspense, must happen as part of a logical sequence of events. You’ve done a good job with suspense when readers care about what’s going to happen and don’t want to stop turning pages, or if they must stop reading, they’re eager to return to the book as soon as possible. You can use and build suspense in many ways; however, you don’t want to overdo this or it will slow plot momentum. Worse, it will become obvious to readers that you’re more interested in distracting them from less than stellar plot and character development than making sure the story engages them.  

Other forms of suspense include seeking something significant, big discoveries that are made, time running out, physical attacks, as well as emotional or spiritual attacks. Something as simple as an envelope with a significant message inside received but unopened and forgotten about or an important fax that falls under a nearby piece of furniture creates suspense. There’s something there a character needs to know about—readers know about it—but the character is operating in the dark. This creates a promise to readers: at some point, the character will either discover or be impacted by this.

Suspense must happen organically within plot development; and three of many ways to do this involves the use of clues, false clues, and red herrings. “A clue is a mistake by another name,” said the character James Hathaway in the PBS series Inspector Lewis). Clues provide information to a character (and to readers). These can include tangible objects such as fingerprints, or a button torn from a garment during a struggle and later pried from the clenched hand of the victim, or a circled listing in a newspaper. A false clue can be used on a character by another character (a character lies to the private investigator), which is learned by the P.I. later in the story. You can also use what’s called a red herring, which is an event or statement that misleads characters (and readers); but this must be logical and have relevance to the story. A red herring keeps readers from figuring out what’s really going on sooner than you wish to reveal what is going on.

I wish you the best with your writing, process, and progress.

Joyce Shafer

“Editor, Joyce Shafer. What can I say? Simply put, no Joyce, no book. Part editor, part coach, part teacher, Joyce was absolutely phenomenal throughout the entire editing process. Working with Joyce was like taking a graduate course in writing with your all-time favorite teacher and you were the only student. I just can't say enough good things. Allow me a shameless plug for her services at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/ ~ Eric Berbig, Author of The People’s Will

Work with Joyce L. Shafer as your writing coach or developmental editor. Details about her services, including Critiques and The Chapter-by-Chapter Get-Your-Book-Written Writer’s Incentive Coaching at http://editmybookandmore.weebly.com/