Hi All: We are continuing to work through Renni Browne’s answers to some of the questions you all posted on the subject of self-editing. Since Monday is a holiday here in the US, this will be a slightly lighter day than normal.
Gerhi Janse van Vuuren asked:
I’m writing a Nanowrimo novel so the editor is off at the moment. But I will have a draft in about a months time. The standard advice seem to be to let the draft lie for a time (a week, a month) before picking it up again. But I know from experience (academic writing) that when I get to the end of a draft I already know about a ton of things I want to fix. Should I still let it lie or immediately fix the things that I feel needs fixing?
Renni answered: Sounds like you can have it both ways. Jump on the things you know you want to fix and then let it lie.
Randy adds: It’s good to let it lie for a bit. That’s a good time to get your critiquers/reviewers/editor to work it over, while you do something different. However, you don’t always have that luxury, especially when you get in the publishing pipeline and are producing book after book on deadline. So then you may want to start revising immediately, even while you wait to get answers back.
Anna asked:
On Self-Editing: What are the major points to work on? I have been writing a lot over the past few days, but I feel like I’m going too fast on the actual book. I feel like the most important characters aren’t coming out right. I feel like the story is going too fastSlike I’m rushing it. In self-editing, do you worry about grammar and spelling? I generally don’tSthat really doesn’t seem to be the most important part to meSbut what about the other stuff? When you read over your chapters AGAIN, do you polish the sentences and dialogue? Edit out the worst scenes? Rewrite as you go? Basically, do you edit and write at the same time.
Renni answered: When you’re writing a draft, let it flow and lock the editor out of the room. I say this somewhere in the book, but I should have put it on page one. Writing and editing come from two different halves of the brain–writing, of course, being a right-brained activity. Now. Having said that, I’ll admit that the last piece I wrote–an article on “What Editors (Really) Do” that’s up at www.editorialdepartment.com — I found myself several times writing a sentence and then, as I started the next one, realizing that the preceding sentence would have much more impact if I changed a word or a phrase to such-and-such. But at the same time I was having this thought, I’d be finishing the new sentence in my head. Aaaaargh. With me it was a shouting match and I went with whichever voice was loudest. I stand by my advice nonetheless. Do your best to let the first draft flow unimpeded by critical thoughts, which can (a) stop the flow, or (b) undermine what’s coming out in sneakier ways. (“That’s lousy, you know.”) When you let prose flow, it may be rough, it may even be lousy in one way or another, but it may also have energy or bite or surprise it would never have if you fussed with it while it’s coming out.
Randy adds: I’ve found that the creative part of writing is very chaotic and unpredictable and unrepeatable. (If you’ve ever LOST a great piece that you slammed out in a white heat of passion, you know very well that you can’t redo it the next day. You’ll get something the second time, but it won’t be the same.)
However, the editing part of writing is very predictable and repeatable. I’ve sometimes edited the same piece of work twice (by accident, because I thought I’d lost my edited pages, only to find them later on after I edited the whole thing AGAIN). And I’ve found that my edits were pretty darn close both times. Not exact, but pretty repeatable.
So if you’re slamming out your story and you feel tempted to fix that broken sentence with the glaring typo, think twice. If you edit it tomorrow, you’re almost certain to fix it the same then that you would now. But if you lose your train of thought, can you get it back? Maybe not. So that’s what I remind myself when I’m tempted to edit while creating.
Sometimes I do edit while I’m creating, of course. I do that on the days when the words just aren’t screaming off my fingertips and it really won’t hurt to lose my train of thought, because it’s just a toy train anyway. But on those rare golden days when I can’t type fast enough to get the story on the page, well, I’d be crazy to fix the spelling errors. On those days, I let it rip. You really can fix it tomorrow.
This is comforting advice. It’s nice to know it’s okay to keep going no matter how much it needs revised.
Thanks!
Ms. Browne’s example of fighting her inner editor while writing her latest article comforts me, because I often have the same struggle. My inner editor is very strong-willed and hard to resist for long. However, I’ve found some ways to work with my inner editor rather than fighting it. In case anyone else has this problem, I’d like to share my strategy: When I’m tempted by the urge to micro-edit (grammar, word choice, etc.) while writing my rough draft, I just jot down editing notes in the margin if I’m hand-writing the draft, or if I’m typing, I’ll put a comment in brackets after the related sentence or word. For example, if I can’t decide between using “ran” or “sprinted” in a sentence, I’ll write “ran/sprinted” or type “ran [sprinted]” so that both word choices are recorded for me to decide on later. This way, I won’t forget my ideas for revision but at the same time it doesn’t derail my train of creative thought. Also, when I’m working on a long piece like a novel, I compromise with my inner editor by switching off: I write without stopping for two or three chapters, and then I take a break from the creative side to do some minor editing. I’m sure this doesn’t work for everyone, but for obsessive-compulsive types like me, who are constantly struggling to maintain peace between the creative and critical sides, this is such a sanity saver!
Aly, I’ve done the same thing with alternate choices or ideas without developing those ideas, unless it’s absolutely obvious that’s the better way to go.
Brackets help set it off, or even a spaced paragraph or
all CAPS, or write a question to check later, or ?????, or some visual like that, because the format can be corrected later. I also use a different color type which makes a questionable section easy to locate
later and not be confused with the narrative.
I save the micro-editing for the second draft. It has been my experience that I will catch spelling errors, poor sentence construction, etc. in the second-go round, even if I don’t note it in the first round. I thnk of that as micro-editing. What I think of as macro-editing has more to do with: are these characters fleshing out, have I said enough about the setting, should I have added a follow-up scene, etc. For those concerns, which usually come to me after I’m done writing, I make notes on sticky note cards and put them on the wall next to my computer, including a chapter or page number. I go back and look through them as I start on the second draft. That way I don’t have to try and remember, insert, or re-edit every flash of insight or concern in the first draft. I can keep the momentum going for now, knowing I’ll have time in the next draft to address those issues/concerns.
I think I must have several internal editors. The “read-aloud” editor reads every scene as soon as it’s written and fixes grammar and style. The “fact” editor sticks question marks in to remind me to check what color Fred’s eyes are, and whether Amy’s really still a baby. And the “flow” editor waits till the writing’s finished and rested, then collaborates on the next draft. When they’re all finished I let microsoft spelling and grammar do its bit too.
You guys make us sound like Sybil.
I see what’s going on now. I have always thought of myself as a highly creative person, but the creating aspect of writing for me at the moment is the hardest part, while the editing is a snap. If you can call it editing, because for me, it’s a big part of the creating. I actually start getting excited and creative as I go back over what I’ve written.
New scenes don’t fly off my fingertips. My current method is to take the next scene on my outline and snowflake it out in layers. Instead of starting out with amazing prose and rolling down the train tracks through a scene, I have to lay it all out in a thin skeleton of the events or conversations that need to happen in this scene, then arrange them sensibly, then go back over it and make it flow like a story. That’s when I really get excited; I go back over it again and fill it in with emotion and pretty words.
It’s a Snowflake, not a train. So, for me, the editor doesn’t interrupt my train of thought because I don’t really have one.
Anyway, I have learned so much here and through books on writing, now I realize 90% of what I’ve learned is about polishing and perfecting the prose. I GET perfecting, that’s part of the package here. But I feel like I’ve skipped over a foundational part of learning to write…the creative part.
So I guess I’m not an artist, after all. ACK!! I find that I’m a thinker, not a storyteller. My themes and ideas are much better than my writing.
I think I need to unlock the creative side, or something. I wonder if I should take a local college writing course, the kind where they lock you in a psychedelic room with an odd assortment of objects to look at and pipe in classical music and make you write non-stop whatever comes into your head. Do they still do that? Maybe they outlawed it.
Sorry, I’m just trying to work this out. Thanks Renni and Randy, it’s great advice, very helpful!
Camille, a great course/book for unlocking the creative is Writing the Natural Way by Gabriele Lusser Rico. I think it’s around $15 on Amazon–which sure beats a college fee!
My latest shut-up-the-self-critic/editor trick has been to turn my monitor off completely while writing. This does two things: eliminates that stupid accusing blinking cursor on the blank white page, and it eliminates my seeing what comes out of my hands so I’m not pressured to get it right but just let it come out. Can’t say this isn’t maddening, but for the five or so times I’ve tried this so far, I’ve found that the black screen is actually quite soothing to look at, like peering in one of those dark windows and trying to imagine what’s going on inside. I go into a writer’s trance a lot quicker and stay there longer which is a plus for me!
Easier said than done…
Thanks for the great answers Renni and Randy.
I’m in the midst of NaNo madness too (I passed the halfway mark on Saturday) and really appreciate the reassurance that I CAN let it rip now and edit later. I have been a little bit worried about ending up with so much dross around the gold – I hope there’s some gold in there – that I’ll never be able to get rid of all that dross later.
My nano-novel is based on an extensively prepared snowflake, but in the writing it is spreading its banks like a river in flood rather than staying within my clearly mapped channels. It’s kind of exciting, although I have to fight my plotter’s instinct to erect levy banks instead of letting it flow a little. It will be interesting to have a look at the new landscape when I’ve finished.
This series on self-editing is coming at a REALLY good time!!
This discussion is helpful. I’d like to read Renni’s article, too, but every time I try to open it, my web browser shuts down completely. Has anyone else had this problem, or know how to fix it?
Thanks
I have to keep telling the editor to leave the room when I’m writing because he’s such a nit-picker! 🙂
I have started doing this and after cranking out a bunch of pages it feels good to have produced so much without being slowed down by that nit-picking editor!
When he is allowed in the room, he does find some interesting stuff and comments come out like: “where’d that come from?” or “that’s absolutely awful”. But it’s his job to fix it, and he does.