From The First Draft To The Last, Part 4

As we finally bring this behemoth in for a landing, I’m reminded of the old saying: “Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.” What started as a request for a single post turned into … well, you can see how things mushroomed. Thanks again to Turenn for suggesting the topic. Be it hereby known, I’m always open for requests.

In Parts 1 through 3, we began with the misshapen unloveliness of a first draft and put it through an extreme makeover, doing everything within one person’s power to bring it closer to its potential.

Now, finally, comes the time to start letting go…

As in Part 3, there’s some overlap with prior material I’ve written, that can amplify the topic, so look for the Detour link to shoot off on an extended tangent.

The Editorial Process: Angels To Some, Demons To Others

If you’re writing solely for yourself, you can afford to be easily satisfied. If you’re writing for publication, then an editor may be involved. Some editors simply acquire. Others are more hands-on, and give suggestions for revisions. Likewise agents, some of whom initiate an editorial phase of their own. Publication or representation may be contingent on your cooperation.

Personally, I love the give-and-take of the editorial process. If I’ve just finished a piece, I’m too close to it to be objective. A fresh pair of eyes can spot weaknesses I might not see until after a month or more of distance. I find it enormously rewarding to work with a trusted editor to take a work that may be 95% there and bring it the last 5% of the way.

Still squeamish about letting others tamper with your words? Get over it already. To quote agent Donald Maass, he of Part 3’s subsection on micro-tension, from this Q&A:

“Outside readers are needed, critique partners or groups who are at your level or beyond. Professional athletes have coaches. Actors have directors. Rock groups have (for recording) producers and (for performances) musical directors. Why do writers think they can, or even should, go it alone? I don’t get that.”

A few tips on getting the most out of the editorial process:

• Be nice. Be prompt. In other words, be professional.
• Don’t act like a diva. Your every word may not be a precious gem and the editor may actually have a point.
• You don’t necessarily have to roll over on every single issue.
• If you disagree on a requested revision, diplomatically give your reasons why. You may persuade the editor to see it your way.
• Never forget that editors are human. They can get distracted and miss things. If an editor asks for something that’s already there, point out where it is. Just don’t get cocky or contemptuous about it. Be nice.
• If you absolutely can’t live with something an editor demands, cordially withdraw.
• Say thank you, and mean it.
• If you have a conflict with an editor, don’t complain about it on message boards, blogs, etc. Even if it doesn’t get back to the editor in question, it still makes you look like a whiner. EXCEPTION: If an editor and/or publisher has gone to the Dark Side of unscrupulous and unethical conduct. This is fairly rare, but often doesn’t come to light until people start comparing notes.

Some of this seems screamingly obvious. Yet there’s probably not an editor alive who can’t tell stories about the arrogant douchebags who’ve come across their desk. Don’t be the focal point of another such story. Your first encounter can lay the groundwork for a future relationship, or destroy all chances. Ultimately, it’s your work that clinches the deal, but if it comes down to a writer who’s professional to deal with and another who’s a proven pain-in-the-ass, guess who’s likely to get the nod.

Final Draft? There Ain’t No Such Thing!

As my artist friend James Powell is fond of quoting, “Art is never finished. It is merely abandoned.”

Comes the day, then, that I’m forced to abandon a work and let it continue on its way. This becomes, by default, the final draft. This is an arbitrary distinction. The truth is, I can hardly scan through anything of mine without wanting to tweak one more thing, one more thing.

But first publications don’t usually comprise only publications. Novels may come out in new editions. Short stories, novelettes, and novellas get reprinted, some of them several times: in year’s-best round-ups, in later anthologies and magazines. Most eventually get corralled into a collection — my fourth was published last spring, and I’m starting to plan the fifth. Nearly all my books, novels and collections alike, are making the migration into e-book formats.

I seem genetically incapable of letting something go back to print without taking another pass through it to see if anything needs touching up. It’s micro stuff at this point: Word X seems punchier than Word Y; this line of dialogue could ring better; this cultural reference could be updated; and the piece usually sheds a few more unnecessary words. This keeps the work alive and breathing for me, rather than feeling like I’ve only dug it out of a trunk full of mothballs in the attic.

This runs counter to the way some writers approach their work. Once a piece is published, they never touch it again. I have no quarrel with that. It’s just not my way.

Detour: “The Same River Twice.”

Exit Page Right

There are a lot of things that I hope this four-part epic post will be: Helpful. Food for thought. An expanded way of approaching your work. Inspirational. A source for an extra tool or three.

One thing I don’t intend it to be is a checklist.

Format dictates presenting these actions in a logical sequence. In practice, I’m never this logical or sequential. After the first draft, anything can happen in almost any order. Things that may look like distinct stages here more often than not get done simultaneously, in varied combinations, as I go through the novel or story time and again, one pass after another after another.

It isn’t distinct stages so much as a process of continual refinement. To return to the sculpture metaphor of Part 2, it’s chipping away everything that doesn’t look like the horse … and growing new marble where needed.

It’s just my own workflow, no more and no less, and there may be holes in my game. And for closing words, it’s hard to beat these, from Bruce Lee:

“Absorb what is useful, discard what is not, add what is uniquely your own.”

Awesome people share.

You are awesome, aren’t you…?