This blog
post is about the most important part of writing, the part that takes a
mediocre first draft and turns it into something great. This blog post is about
editing.
In
Why My Love Life Sucks
, Gilbert
Garfinkle mentions his simple three-part method for fixing anything: take it
apart, figure it out, and fix it. Easy, right? Editing works the same way: you take
your story apart, you figure out what parts are working and what parts can be
made better, and you fix it.
It’s as
simple as that.
For many
writers, though, there’s one major obstacle that gets in the way of completing
these three simple steps, and it’s another word that starts with the letter E: ego.
I don’t mean
that these writers are egotistical and think their first draft is perfect just
the way it is (although sometimes that’s the case). I’m referring to the psychological
ego, as in a person’s sense of self.
Sometimes the
writer is the main thing standing in the way of a story being all that it can
be. And it can happen in every stage of editing a story.
Here, let me
break it down.
First, you can’t fix something without taking
it apart.
Many newbie writers,
however, are reluctant to truly do that to their story. Sure, it can be because
they think their story is already perfect, but more often than not, it’s
because of insecurity. It’s not so much because they think their story is
perfect; it’s more that they’re worried that it isn’t.
They’ve read
books that they’ve loved, and they want to be able to write like J.K. Rowling,
Rick Riordan, Neil Gaiman, or whichever writer they admire most. The thing they
don’t realize is that great books aren’t created by writers who produce perfect
first drafts; they’re created by writers who produce imperfect first drafts and
aren’t afraid to take them apart and edit them like crazy.
If that’s
not enough to get you over your insecurity, the best advice I can give you is something
someone told Tina Fey when she was starting out in improv (and I’m paraphrasing
here): don’t worry that it’s going to suck,
because it is definitely going to suck. You just have to let go of the idea
that that’s a bad thing. It’s not. You
have to create something that totally sucks first. Otherwise, you’ll have
nothing to fix.
This isn’t
just true about you. It’s true about me. It’s true about any writer who’s ever
written anything worth reading. From the start, we all have to give our stories
permission to totally suck.
So let go of
your insecurities, and don’t be afraid to take your story apart. Once you do
that, you can move onto the next part of figuring it out.
Unfortunately, a writer can also get in his
own way here, and many writers do. There’s that darn ego again! It’s because many
writers have a hard time looking at their stories with objective eyes, and a
writer can’t really figure something out if that writer doesn’t even see it for
what it is.
Many writers
see their story as their baby. Well, I’m sorry, but it’s not. And the sooner a
writer accepts that, the sooner that writer can actually figure out what works
in the story and what doesn’t. This means the writer needs to check his ego at the door. Again, I
mean ego as in a sense of self. A writer needs to understand that this isn’t
about him; it’s about the story and only the story. Okay, maybe it’s about the reader, too, but it
most definitely isn’t about the writer.
If a writer
has a hard time separating himself from his story and seeing it objectively (as
possible as that is when it comes to something as subjective as what works and
doesn’t), there are a few things he can do. He can join a critique group to get
different points of view. He can try to find beta readers. He can hire a
professional editor. At the very least, he can put his manuscript away for a month
so that when he comes back to it, he’s more likely to see it with fresh eyes. But
whatever he does, he has to understand that any criticism isn’t about him; it’s about the story, and making the story better.
Finally, we
get to the fixing stage.
Now you
might think there’s no way the ego could mess this stage up. Unfortunately, you’d
be wrong. Because very strangely that insecurity that came with the first stage
can often come back at this stage—and sometimes it’s even worse.
This is
where a writer can spend an entire day taking one word out and then putting it
back in. This is where a writer can suddenly decide after spending a year or
more editing and editing and editing a book that it isn’t really the book they
want to write. I’ve actually seen talented writers throw out brilliantly
written and edited books that were almost done, because something—or possibly
someone—told them their books weren’t good enough.
The only
solution I have to this is to let it go.
Send your
story out to the world. If it really isn’t good enough, a lot of people will probably
let you know. But chances are it will be perfect in some reader’s eyes, and
then all that work you put in will be worth it. And who knows? Maybe that
reader will decide to write a book, too. And then your book will make her feel insecure, because she’ll have
no idea how hard you had to work to make your story shine.
E is for editing,
and when it comes to writing, editing is everything.
are Gilbert Garfinkle--a.k.a. Gilbert the Fixer--and Amber. Gilbert is the ultimate, teenage geek; and Amber is the gorgeous, vampire girl who wants to turn him into her platonic BFF--literally forever. The story is written from Gilbert’s point of view.
