Revision - Laurie Halse Anderson speaks

I came across a wonderful post by Laurie Halse Anderson, which absolutely nails the revision process in a way I can't begin to do better.

She is a writer I admire hugely. I loved her books Speak and Catalyst particularly. Catalyst is a book I recommend to parents as a warning that high-achieving teenagers may be under far more intolerable pressure than they let on.

Listen to constructive criticism

I recently had a very interesting (not in a particularly good way) conversation with a writer who had benefited from the Romantic Novelists' Association New Writers' Scheme. This is a fabulous, fabulous scheme; writers are selected on the basis of the quality of their writing and they receive a free critique on their novel from an expert, worth several hundreds of pounds if they were paying a consultancy. Everything I've heard about the RNA scheme is excellent and places are highly valued. I also know from my work for Pen2Publication just how hard giving such feedback is and how difficult it is to give hard-headed, honest advice on a topic which is inevitably somewhat subjective.

So, what's my problem?

Well, I heard this writer say to another one on the scheme, "Do listen to the positive feedback but take the negative with a pinch of salt." She might have said "ignore", but the meaning was clear.

My hackles rose. She continued by explaining that the person giving her feedback had said lots of positive things but had suggested that x and y should be changed, but that she'd actually got a publishing deal and x and y were retained. Therefore, the person giving the feedback was wrong.

Oh goshy goshy gosh. And feckity gosh all over again.

Where do I begin?

Imperfect books get published, yes? Not that I'm saying this writer's work was imperfect - I've no idea and I have no time or desire to find out. But, the fact that a knowledgeable person gave an enormous amount of time to offer an honest opinion and highlighted a wart or two, and that a publisher decided to offer a deal even with the wart, and even admired the wart, does not mean that the opinion was wrong or that it should have been ignored rather than properly considered. You wrote some something with warts and it got published? How is this news? Warty stuff often sells.

I do agree, and always say to my clients, that you should only effect changes when you agree with them. Certainly, if after careful thought you really believe that a suggested change wouldn't work or be right, you shouldn't make it. But my point is only this: that the fact that an expert made a suggestion and that another expert disagreed, does not make the first expert wrong. After all, most writers have had a book rejected that then went on to become published. It does not make the rejecting publishers wrong. It just means they didn't like it or didn't know how to sell it.

Any writer who dismisses the negative but laps up the positive had better be ready for the negative reviews of her book which will come.

I have had books published. Some of them have won awards. Some of the ones that have won awards have had yuckity reviews. Some of those reviews I (try to) ignore because I don't value the opinion of the giver, BUT if someone says something positive and negative, how on earth could I justify believing the good but not the bad?? If I value someone's opinion I cannot only value it when it suits me. That doesn't mean I have to kow-tow to it but it does mean I should not dismiss it out of hand as this writer seemed to, and to dismiss it so disrespectfully. For a start, the critique opinion seeks to give you the best chance of publication, about which there are no certainties.

It is incredibly important to decide WHOM you believe, perhaps more than WHAT you believe. True, you can't believe everything, but you cannot only believe what suits you.

This was the mark of a new writer, who was rightly excited to be published, and for that I forgive her. I wish her well in her journey, and I hope she learns how to listen to negative and positive and to understand the value of professional feedback, especially when it honestly suggests improvement, not just dismiss it as wrong.

There is no right or wrong, only best guessing.

Beware of praise

Praise is very like chocolate:

• It tastes great at the time.
  
• Too much of it is (regrettably) bad for you.
  
• It (regrettably) needs to be balanced with the sensible stuff.
• Once tasted, you want more and more of it.
• People give it to each other to show love, to bribe them, to make friends, and because giving and receiving are linked.
  
• You should sometimes reject it.
• It has been scientifically proven to be beneficial to mood.

(Pause to go and eat some, just so's I can remember. I call it method-writing.)

Anyway.

So, we all need it. Praise, I mean. But actually, it's not like chocolate because chocolate is Truth Incarnate (except mint flavoured white chocolate, which is pure evil and doesn't deserve to be called chocolate) but some praise is False and Must Be Rejected Forthwith.

Praise from someone who doesn't know what the hell they're talking about is worse than mint flavoured white chocolate. Or those pale ones from Marks & Spencer that have absolutely no chocolate in them at all and make me gag. Oh and M&Ms - I nearly walked out of the cinema when my husband was eating M&Ms. All that vacant crunching and crappy plastic smell and not a hint of genuine cocoa. Am I showing myself up as a chocolate snob? Well, in that case I'm a praise snob too.

You should become a praise snob. If you really want to hone your writing and get published, learn to do two things with praise:

1. Store it in the cosy bit of your brain to boost you when you have no chocolate.
   
2. Analyse it, judge it, assess it, and be HONEST about it (That makes more than two things but I am being generous.) And sometimes, reject it.
   

Here's my fool-proof guide to assessing Praise That Is Relevant To Getting Published. (Of course, praise about your hair-style, dress sense, new lipstick colour or new car is entirely outwith the remit of this blog, and I would have to charge a fee for such extension of my adjudicatory powers.) 

Essentially, all writing-related praise should be thoroughly discarded (after thanking the kind donor and not revealing that you've been told to ignore them by a crabbit old bat from Scotland) if it emanates from the mouths or keyboards of the following. As individuals these are often perfectly lovely people, but they're not qualified to praise your writing in any kind of practical sense, though they may be accidentally correct:

• Your parents, grandparents, children - other relatives may very occasionally give acceptable advice.
• Other unpublished writers, unless they have publishing credentials, in which case listen to them (unless they fall into the blood-relly category).
• Anyone else without some specific reason to know that about which he speaks.
  
• Your friend.
• Your dog.

What about members of your writing group? Tricky. Be very careful how you regard their praise, well-intentioned though it is. Thing is, you're psychologically, morally and ethically connected, (and you may be actually in their house and drinking their wine and eating their Moroccan chicken). Occasionally your writing group may be right, but you should listen more carefully to their criticism. Treat their praise like the chocolate that it is. Yummy but to be treated with caution.

Look, I KNOW praise is important - I need it too. I'm not saying ignore all praise: I'm saying assess it. I'm saying be honest with yourself. Some praise is fab but some is simply air. Poisonous air at that.

Ask yourself two questions:

1. Does this person genuinely know what he/she is talking about?
2. Is this person giving the praise entirely out of the blue and not because you happen to have put him/her on the spot by asking for an "honest opinion"?
   

I see people being held back from publishing potential by clutching at empty praise and ignoring the much rarer really constructive criticism, which could actually improve their writing and pull them towards genuine success. Of course I love it when people say nice things to me but I grow much more from the negative points - the girl who asked me why I wrote such long chapters, the comments from readers who didn't like a certain ending.

There are people I know who are renowned for being honest in their criticism and those are the ones I work hardest to please because I know they won't say it's good if it's not. 

The worst places are some online communities and forums. You see people going on-line and off-loading about how an agent or editor has rejected them or said something negative and everyone piles in with poor you, and don't worry WE know you're fab, dahling, when they haven't even read the thing that's been rejected. And of course it's lovely and kind and generous but in terms of becoming published it's so detrimental because it fails to encourage the writer to consider whether actually the negative points might have been worth something.

Perhaps I should more constructively say: hold all praise briefly to your heart and then let it go and focus on improving your writing.

[Adapted from a much earlier post. There is also more advice about finding and dealing with quality  feedback in Write to be Published.]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PEN2PUBLICATION & NEWS FOR WRITERS

Today is the first birthday of Pen2Publication, my writing consultancy. I have a few observations. And two things that surprised me. If you get to the end of the post, I even have some NEWS for you...

During the year I've taken on 29 clients, turned down some others, and delivered over 170,000 words in reports. Almost two novels' worth! (Crikey, think how pleased my agent would have been, if only...) I've had one client who didn't get back to me after receiving her report, but every one of the others has been effusive in acceptance of my often tough words. In fact, the first thing that surprised me was the courage and positivity with which they have all received their reports. A full P2P manuscript report is usually around 7,000 words, and most of those words focus on what's wrong. I skip with unseemly haste through the positive stuff and linger ouchingly on the negative so that the client understands fully what he or she needs to do. It's very, very tough to receive such feedback and I would like to say how much I admire them for being able to take it and, more importantly, act on it so keenly. I prepare all clients very carefully beforehand and don't take anyone who I think is going to be resistant or ignorant about the hard work involved in good writing. For my clients' dedication and courage, I salute them.

Comments have included:

"Thanks so much for your insightful, thorough and hugely helpful report. I thought I'd better check in so that you know I haven't killed myself!"

"Thanks so much again for what seems like an entire course in creative writing's worth in one report!"

"To be honest, Nicola, I cried. I cried with relief that now, at last, I know what's wrong. And you've shown me how to deal with it."

"I have re-read many websites, blogs, covering the points your critique made. I had read most of them before, but seeing your pointed comments placed alongside my own work had a marked effect. It was as if I was reading the previously studied advice for the first time."

"I am deeply impressed by the detail of your report and annotations."

"You don't hold back!"

No, I don't. There wouldn't be any point, would there? You don't pay for someone to pat you on the back, say how marvellous you are and then to shy away from saying why you aren't published and won't be if you don't find and rectify the faults. On the other hand, I don't have to try very hard to find the faults and let me tell you the second thing that surprised me about this work:

Pretty much everyone is making the same few mistakes.

So, one might think, why don't I just list those mistakes, here and now, for everyone to see? Then, surely, writers can save themselves a whole load of money by not having to go to consultancies like P2P?

Actually, I've written about them all already on this blog. But I'll say it again: you make mistakes with voice, structure, narrative thrust, over-writing, believability and pace. I've done posts on them all. But being told these things in the abstract is not enough. What I do within a P2P consultation is highlighted by one of the comments above:

"...seeing your pointed comments placed alongside my own work, had a marked effect. It was as if I was reading the previously studied advice for the first time."

Because if I tell you what to do in a blog post, doling out the theory, it simply is not as pointful and useful as if I show you, by taking your work and showing how it falls short of what you can and must do. What I do with a P2P report is annotate the MS, so that the writer's own writing reveals clear examples of the points I make in the report itself.

See, showing is better than telling.

Here comes the news...

I haven't written this post because I'm looking for more clients - far from it, actually. As you'll see if you hop over to P2P, I'm not taking new clients at the moment. (That's not the news.) At best, I only take on 2-3 a month and will take fewer from now on, as I am getting behind on my own writing. (No, that's not news either.) Next year, I'll be doing lots of Write to be Published workshops. I'll be announcing this properly soon, when I launch the brand new website, but I am inviting you over there now, as special preview guests.That's part of the news. (Oh, and do tell me about any typos - it's not fully ready yet.)

But the main news is that on the events section of the WTBP site you will see that the very first Write to be Published event actually aims to answer the very question that a P2P manuscript appraisal does:

WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY MANUSCRIPT? 

Do you want to know what's wrong with yours? Well, if you can get to Edinburgh on March 22nd and spend the evening with me at this event in a luxury hotel, refreshments (including wine) and chocolate included, as well as a goody bag and free book, I aim to try to show you. You are being told before anyone else, so sign up now before the rush!

There's also another event you'll see, on April 4th: Get Ready to be Published. Everything except the writing. With those two events, you're pretty much set.

But I do realise that many of you can't get to Edinburgh or afford the fees for a private consultancy, so the blog goes on, unabated. Just try to stop me...

EDITING FOR TOUGHIES

The difference between a first draft and the final draft should be vast. It is the difference between ignoring your readers and listening to them. It's the difference between being a loudmouth and being a writer. It's the difference between being an arrogant bastard who loves the sound of her own voice, and a dedicated, tuned-in communicator with a passion for words and a burning need to make those words matter.

It's the difference between not being published and being published.

I remember when I was trying - and failing - to be published. (God, I remember it.) Anyway. I went to a thing. I'd like to call it an event but it was seriously uneventful. It was a gathering of people who wanted to listen to someone - not me - who'd had a book published. Or, as I now realise, self-published. (Which is fine, because actually it was the right sort of book to be s-pubbed, being a genuinely niche book.) Anyway, I got chatting to the author. And I made the big mistake of telling her about my lengthy editing Process. God, what a process, I said. I edit and edit and hone and hone and slice and splice and generally try to make it as perfect as I can.

"Oh," she said. "Don't bother with that. I can always tell an over-edited piece of work. One should never edit too much."

CRAP. One should edit and edit and edit and edit until there is nothing more one can possibly do. As Oscar W famously said. "I spent all morning editing a poem and I removed one comma. In the afternoon, I put it back again."

I have never edited "too much". Sure, sometimes I have to stop because I have reached The Deadline and people are about to shout at me, which I hate, but I would rather carry on. And on. And...

By the way, that woman's book really really really needed editing.

So do my blog-posts but that's different because if you don't like my stream of consciousness you don't have to read it. You  haven't paid me, after all. More's the pity, you mean buggers.

So. Editing. I have talked about it before. But I want to take a different tack on it today. There are, it seems, three things to do.

1. You must cut.
2. You must add.
3. And you must check for hidden nastiness.

The first and the last are the ones most often covered in how-to-write thingummies. I've said them myself. It goes like this:

CUTTING

Apply the machete. Be ruthless. If it's not necessary, get rid of it. If it wriggles and pleads, kill it. If you love it especially, it must die. Every word must count.

CHECKING

Know what could be wrong. Get genned up on voice slippages, POV switches, structural crappiness, pace issues. Slash dialogue tags, burn redundant adverbs. Make your beginning zing, tighten up your saggy middle, make sure your ending satisfies. Smarten up your grammar, kill clichés, disentagle metaphors, make sure that all disbelief is suspended from a very high tower. Do not let yourself get away with anything. Masochism is compulsory.

BUT WHAT ABOUT ADDING?

We don't talk about this, do we? We talk about getting rid of things because for most writers that's the big necessity. But someone emailed me recently and asked what happens when, after cutting out your redundant words, you are left with the nightmare scenario of a book that's too short...

Well, one thing's for sure: you shouldn't just bulk it up with some more description or character analysis or whatever. Because, for crying out loud, that's what you just took out.

So, what we might need is a whole new angle. A new sub-plot. And that's not easy. And might look added on. So, ask yourself this: what if... well, what if anything. What if a new character suddenly forced his or her way in? Yay! Right at the start. What if someone was watching your first chapter and muscled in? Seriously. Just forced his way in. Bastard! Deal with him. He could cause serious damage. Ooh, damage - that would be GOOD, no? Could so disrupt your other characters. See, they were sitting there all complacent when suddenly someone from Carrie's past, or Joel's past, or someone from the future, or just someone with a new agenda arrives. Ooh, what shenanigans. Could be someone that Sarah would hate or Esma would fall in love with.

Or, maybe not a whole new angle. Maybe a diversion. Maybe you had been so focused on the imminent ending that you hurtled your characters too quickly towards it. So, how about if, instead of having three things that get in the way of your MC's aim, you have FOUR? Ooh, just as the reader thought it was going SO well, you introduce a huge new spanner, and it throws everything into disarray.

Crikey, it could take another 20,000 to get out of that.

So, new character or spanner. Go on, you know you want to.

Thing is, there'll be a load more editing to do because then you'll need to do the cutting and checking again. And you'll find bits that need re-threading and tweaking. But it will be worth it. Because eventually you will have your beautiful final draft.

Draft. Still a draft. Not finished.

Well, of course, a bit more editing. Mmmm. And eventually it's not a draft any more. No, it's not perfect - it never will be. But it will be as perfect as you can make it.

And that's enough.

Go edit. Cut. Add. Check.

SELF-EDITING - MY GUIDE

[Apologies for the temporary brief disappearance of this post. I'd left the house for an appointment, forgetting that it was scheduled and that I hadn't done a final edit - ironically ;-). Amazing how many Twitter messages I had telling me to hurry up! I didn't find any mistakes but I did tighten it up - my aim is nearly always to reduce word count and I do a lot of rephrasing to achieve that.]

Here 'tis:

Every writer needs two editors. Another person and the writer himself. Yes, we all need an outside view, someone who can be as objective as possible and who is knowledgeable about our own genre. But we must also edit our own work. Trust me: no agent or publisher nowadays can bear to look at something that has not been polished until gleaming. That doesn't mean perfect - just as perfect as you can get it.

So, we have to edit our own work. Good unpublished writers know that, which is why so many of you ask for tips on how to do it. So, I thought I'd let you know how I do it, add some of the things that I know work for other people, and then let you add your own pet methods.

HOW I EDIT MY OWN WORK

Stage One
This happens during the actual writing. I can't switch off my internal editor, so, by the time I get to the end of the "first" draft, I have already cleared up quite a few problems and it can hardly be described as a first draft. Importantly, I will also have started making a list of things I will change or check during re-drafting.

So, my editing process will revolve around this list, made in the Moleskine notebook dedicated to that particular WIP. (This notebook will contain character notes and time-lines etc, too.)

Stage Two
This is the Silent Pass – a run-through of the whole book, acting on my list from Stage One. Gradually the points are ticked off – although this always causes some more to be added as I notice other things.

At this stage, I am looking for large things like: plot inconsistencies, character development not being smooth or effective, pace, voice slippages, inappropriate POV switches, boring bits, threads that I failed to pick up. For non-fiction I'm looking at structure, repetition, sense, coherence.

Of course, I will also deal with small things if I happen to notice them, such as typos.

This stage can involve several passes, because changing something can lead to more things needing to be changed.

Stage Three

This is the Reading Aloud Pass – I read the whole book aloud. Here I am doing three specific things:

• First, I am imagining that my audience consists of a group of potential readers who would rather be doing something else. My job is to hold them. So, I’m honing my prose to ensure that every word ought to be there.
• Second, I’m listening for anything that sounds wrong – it’s amazing how often reading aloud alerts you to a repetition or an oddity that you can’t see with your eyes. Voice slippages are also easy to detect when reading aloud.
• Third, I’m looking for small errors and typos. Reading aloud, slowly as though for a performance, helps me spot things that my silent reading eyes would have skipped over.

Stage Three can also involve several passes.

Stage Four

This mainly involves dizzy eyes, paranoia and an eventual acceptance that the book is rubbish but is at least perfect rubbish.

OTHER SUGGESTIONS
What adaptations might you make and what other methods or tips have I heard of?

• To maintain consistency of your characters, keep notes of any description you make of them. This could be in a notebook or on-screen document, such as a spreadsheet.
• Consider using a text-to-voice software – I’ve heard of one called textaloud – which means you can listen to your text being read while you edit.
• Use comment boxes to raise doubts / remind yourself to look at something.
• I recommend that you keep an unedited version as a separate document, in case for any reason you change your mind about something you've changed your mind about and want to retrieve the original.
• For non-fiction, how you format headings and sub-headings is important. A publisher may well change all your formatting, but it makes a huge difference to the readability and sense of a book, as well as your professionalism, if it’s consistent from the start. For fiction, it helps if you are consistent with paragraphing and lay-out of chapter headings.

TOP TIPS FOR SELF-EDITING

• If you can leave it out and retain the same meaning, do.
• If when you’re reading aloud, you sense your imaginary audience yawning, tighten it up.
• Try to look at it through your readers’ eyes, not your own.

And then, of course, there's that Killing Your Darlings thing. Yes, our favourite bits are often the bits that have to go, and yes, ruthless is good, but KYD is just another way of saying Edit, edit, edit.

I was just about to schedule this piece when I saw this post on Writer Beware. Very good sense.

And to those who say that editing interferes with the creative flow: creative flow, my backside. Fine, let it flow but mop it up afterwards.

TO HIRE AN EDITOR OR NOT

Stupendous good sense here from Rachelle Gardner. I cannot exaggerate how much I agree with everything she says in this article. Please read it.

Let me highlight some bits for you:

"Using a freelance editor can be a great idea - if you use it as a learning experience." [Her bold, but I'd have bolded it, too.]

"It can be very helpful for an editor to give you an evaluation of your first few chapters, so that you can then rework the entire manuscript according to what you learned. It's a terrific learning experience and can help you grow as a writer. It's almost like having a writing tutor."

I couldn't agree more - and it's exactly what I do with manuscript appraisals for Pen2Publication: I work up detailed edits, with comments and explanations, for a section of the book, so that the writer can see the problems and rectify them elsewhere, and not make the same mistakes in the future. Good editing is not about spelling and punctuation but about all the much more fundamental aspects of being a writer.

Rachelle says:

"Many agents and editors are uncomfortable with writers having too much outside editorial help prior to being contracted, because it can mask a writer's true abilities. I'd hate to get you a 3-book contract with a publisher based on that stellar first book, only to find out that you had a ton of help with it and are not able to deliver that quality of book a second time."

This is the point about getting any kind of help before submitting your work: it needs to be your work, not someone else's, and if you do not understand the suggested changes so clearly that you can implement them yourself, then this is going to bode ill for the future.

There is absolutely no shame in hiring an editor, consultant or tutor, as long as you a) choose the right one and b) more importantly, learn from it and use it properly, as a way of curing your weaknesses, not covering them up.

(Unfortunately, I cannot at the moment take on any new clients for Pen2Publication, as I'm fully booked till June. Meanwhile, I am prepared to run a very small number of Submission Spotlights. If you're interested in putting a piece of your submission up for public scrutiny, please email me at writingtutor@hotmail.co.uk. It doesn't cost anything, but you must be prepared for honest reactions from total strangers. Please see the label "Submission Spotlights" on the list on the right before contacting me. The rules for these Spotlights are here.)

CONFLICTING ADVICE

You have doubtless found conflicting advice on the internet and elsewhere. You’ll get published authors offering rules, and agents blogging about how not to approach them, and publishers saying what they’re looking for – and then all those types of people offering the opposite advice. I have contributed to this conflicting advice myself. Obviously, some of it's good and some is bad. And there are good reasons why advice may conflict.

Good reasons for conflicting advice:
•    publishing and writing are arts, not sciences. Readers (including expert ones) are human and different from each other;
•    responsible people try to offer concrete answers to the specific questions you ask, when the real answer is usually “It depends on your book.” You don’t like that answer, so we try to say yes or no. Sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes it’s no. Because… it depends on the book;
•    some advice is rubbish. Generally, it’s best to avoid taking too much notice of advice from people who have done nothing to prove that they know anything relevant. For example, an unpublished writer who has never worked in any relevant bit of publishing may be very well-meaning and intelligent but is not necessarily a reliable person to give you advice about anything other than how to survive being unpublished.

So, think carefully about where to get your reliable advice from. There’s no shortage of both sorts, and a little open-minded thought should help you decide who is worth listening to.

Believe me: I am by no means criticising people who do their best to share experience - it's very valuable, very often. I am simply saying that when you weigh it up, you should add in some other advice too, rather than only listening to the possibly unreliable source.


It's probably also true to say that you should always seek more than one opinion anyway, even from reliable sources.

Advice is more likely to be reliable from:

• authors with several books published, including in your genre, unless they got there by being a celebrity;
• people who work or have recently worked in publishing; 
• other people with some clear reason why they know more than you.

Advice is less likely to be reliable from:

• Everyone else. 
• And anyone from the above list who has developed either supreme arrogance, horrible negativity or an alcohol problem. Some of them may be lovely people and well-meaning, but their advice is not reliable...

PUNCTUATION POINTS

GOOD AUTHOR BEHAVIOUR: RESPONDING TO NEGATIVE FEEDBACK

No one actually likes negative feedback. "I welcome your feedback" is usually said through gritted teeth and with a sinking feeling. But the mark of our stature is how we respond to it.

Responding well does not necessarily mean following the negative feedback to the letter. It doesn't necessarily mean changing anything. Responding well involves:

1. accepting that someone did not relate to or enjoy your book;
2. working out whether that person's view is one which should give us cause for changing anything. For example, if this is feedback before publication, and if you asked for that feedback trusting the person's view, if you now don't accept it you should wonder why you asked for a view. Or, if this is a review or comment after publication, again, decide whether perhaps the person has a point, whether he/she was indeed the intended reader, or not, or whether perhaps this has given you an important insight into something you'd like to do better or differently next time;
3. accepting that you won't please everyone and that some people are simply not meant to enjoy your work;
4. not bloody well reacting negatively, at least in public. That is known technically as #authorfail.

If you want to tread into utterly exemplary author behaviour, consider doing what Alex Scarrow has just done. When he came across the opinion of Catherine Hughes (follower of this blog, reader extraordinaire of eleventymillion books and person who I would like to like my books), in which she said she hadn't yet managed to get into Alex's TimeRiders, and was discussing what makes us give up on books, Alex actually left the most gracious comment. So gracious was he, and so impressed were the other blog-commenters, that he has almost certainly scored himself a few more readers. I was tempted to paste his comment here, but I really would like you to read C's blog and the comments thereunder.

Impressed?

My personal taste in books makes me not the likely ideal reader for TimeRiders, but I know plenty of people who are. So, I'm going to buy the book, and have a sneaky peek before giving it to a friend who I think will like it. So, that's one more sale.

Now, unless Alex is a very strange person indeed, the moment when he saw that Catherine had not immediately been hooked by his book cannot have been the best moment of his year so far. However, I think you will agree that whatever he felt, discretion won over vitriol and his response was absolutely the best one he could possibly have given.

As you know, I write reports for people through my Pen2Publication service. Over the almost three months since it started, I've written some reports that must have been really hard for the recipient to read. (I should stress that I've also had the opportunity, and taken it, to write glowingly, too!) It is to the credit of all the writers that their responses have been impeccable and gracious, in every case. I have had writers thank me for pointing out the problems, and going away with enthusiasm to re-write their oeuvres in the confident belief that the criticism was constructive. I only take clients who I believe really do want the truth.

Maybe, when Catherine tells Alex what it was that failed to engage her (which she has promised to do, once she's had another shot!), he will choose to do something a little differently next time. Maybe he will at least feel her eyes looking over his shoulder when he redrafts. Or, maybe, he will take the view, "win some, lose some." It looks to me that his books are fabulously successful and that he can afford to "lose some".

On the other hand, he won some amongst Catherine's blog readers. And he may do here, too.

Meanwhile, for your delectation, a most relevant video.

SELF-EDITING - A BIT LIKE WEEDING

Several of you have asked me to talk about my method for editing and revising my own work. Method? This could be a short post...

But, ever true to you, my bloggy readers, I decided that I should give you what you ask for. I will try to make some method out of my madness.

I guess that the possible methods for self-editing are similar to the possible methods for weeding your garden.

1. Go from one end to the other, picking out all the weeds carefully.
2. Wander about, picking out weeds as you see them.
3. Decide that weeds are just plants with more determination and that, since everything is equal in God's eyes, they should be allowed to remain. [Please don't take this view, even if you have admirable Buddhist tendencies. Not if you want to be published and read. Publishers don't do zen.]

Then I decided that this analogy is complete rubbish and that, as with all analogies, it is aesthetically pleasing and yet practically pointless.

There are, in fact, only three things you need to think about when weeding your garden:

1. You need to know the difference between a weed and a plant.
2. And you just have to get rid of the damned weeds. Doesn't matter how - just do it.
3. No matter how carefully you do it, you'll find more weeds at the end, because the removal of one weed often reveals another.

I decided that that is not complete rubbish and is a pretty good analogy for editing your own work.

1. You need to know what possible errors you're looking for - the difference between a good sentence / plot structure and a crappy one.
2. And you just need to get rid of the errors.
3. And when you've got rid of one lot, another lot is revealed.
4. So you get rid of them.
5. And so on.
6. Until your piece of work is weed-free.

Would you like any help with the identification of weeds? I am here for you, as ever. 

There are two categories of weeds in your literary garden.

CATEGORY ONE WEEDS are the choking bindweedy ones, which threaten to take over your roses and throttle the life-blood from them. These must be removed early on, by the roots, otherwise your roses cannot grow and your garden, frankly, is fit only for slugs and other vermin. It is, in the words of Rab C Nesbit, pish. Examples are:

• Poor characterisation - either in your MCs or your supporting acts. Do your characters always behave as they should? Does the reader like / respect/ identify with / feel for the MC? [We don't need to do all those things, but we have to care.]
• Pace problems - I wrote about that here.
• Tension issues - where is the tension? Is it in the right place? Is it satisfied at the right time?
• Voice slippages - see here.
• Major POV slippages - here you are.
• Story structure / shape / arc problems - over here.
• Saggy middle - hmm, future post, methinks.
• Crappy ending - here.
• Story starting in the wrong place - gosh, I'm good to you.
• And a lot more - which is not very helpful of me but I have a book to write.

[To be honest, you really shouldn't have let most of these anywhere near your garden in the first place. If you are a beginner writer, your book may be littered with these horrors, but a more experienced writer will avoid almost all of them before they appear.]

CATEGORY TWO WEEDS are smaller things, which all writers will find in their first drafts and which we will apply the weeding gloves to with a commendable ruthlessness. Our editors and copy-editors and proof-readers will pick up any that we didn't spot but we want to leave as little as possible for these people. It's our book, not theirs. Category Two weeds are like those dainty things that try to pretend they're real flowers. Sometimes my husband thinks they are and he leaves them. Sometimes he takes out the pretty flowers instead. He is like a novice writer when it comes to weeding, which in his case it usually doesn't, actually. Examples are:

• Places where tweaks should be made to clarify characterisation / motivation / credibility.
• Clunky sentences - sentences where you have clustered a collection of clauses in an ugly order, for example, making it hard for the reader to read.
• Minor POV or voice slippage.
• Places where thre's too much telling when showing would have been better. Extraneous adverbs.
• Continuity issues - eg saying that the MC leapt onto the horse's bare back and then later mentioning the stirrups. I have done this. Oh and then there was the one [which made it through all the copy-editors and all the way into the printed book] where a girl flings open the door of a room which ten minutes before I'd said was locked on the other side...
• Typos, spelling errors, punctuation etc etc. And yes, there will be some in this post. I'll find them eventually. But probably not all of them, because this is a blog post and I can change it later. So shut up, please.
• Anything that doesn't sound absofrigginglutely perfect when you read it aloud, imagining that your audience consists of fidgety people who are assuming you've got nothing interesting to tell them and they're desperate to leave.

When you've done all that, there's only one more thing to do. Do it again. And possibly again. 

One of the problems is that the weed you removed may have hidden roots. You will have noticed the same in books: if you change one thing, you'll find you have created knock-on effects which now have to be dealt with. So, you do have to remove weeds and plot problems by the root and make sure you've not forgotten any tendrils. I suggest keeping a notebook as you revise and jotting down things you've changed, so that you can check that you've found all the consequences. However, this is a bit methody for me and I prefer the madness approach and the constant re-reading.

And when you're quite sure that no weed is peeping up between the soil of your well-raked flower-border, then you can let an agent or publisher see it. By which time, a previously invisible seed will have begun to sprout, and what you thought was perfection won't be. That's because perfection is unattainable in writing as in gardening, and you have to get over it.

Have I answered your questions? Probably not. See, I don't really have a method. I just do it. And do it again. I honestly think once you can identify the weeds, pulling them out is not that difficult. You can choose whatever weeding method works for you: just get rid of the little buggers.

Oh, and by the way, spell-check and grammar-check are the equivalent of weed-killer: they don't let anything grow. They kill indiscriminately and remove control from the gardener. They may have their place for some people but they are not enough for anyone. Real writers use their hands.

AsVoltaire said, Maintenant, il faut cultiver ton jardin. And here's one I made earlier, with not a weed in sight:

WHOSE WRITING ADVICE WILL YOU TRUST?

See, I haven't deserted you. I know that Pen2Publication launches today and you might think I should be drowning in virtual champagne, but a) virtual champagne has never rocked my soul and b) I take my blogging duties way too seriously for that. As you can see from this picture.

Sorry about that. A decadent scene, but entirely false, of course.

Anyway.

Let's talk about trust. And experts. And opinions. And trusting experts' opinions.

I've been thinking about this a lot, because when I have my Pen2Publication hat on it matters to me very much that anyone reading my judgement on their work will know how to accept my words, even if they don't like them. Will they believe they're going to trust me because they're expecting me to say how brilliant their work is, and then when I imply that it's verging on the mildly crappy, will they say, "Pah! So much for her stupid advice! Anyway, it's just an opinion. I'll ignore her."

[By the way, for clarity, I will not use the phrase "mildly crappy". I promise. I will find a much more professional way to tell you.]

But this is my problem, isn't it? Why am I wasting blog space airing my fears? Simple: because all of us have to decide whose opinion we trust. Doesn't matter whether you're paying for something, or reading this blog, or showing work to your critique group, or asking the opinion of friends, agent or editor: you have to decide whose opinion is most likely to be right. And what to do when that trusted opinion tells you what you don't want to hear.

Take me. [Not in that sense, please.] Whom do I trust? It depends what I've written. There's no point in reading a piece of literary fiction to my dog, because my dog only appreciates food. Not only, therefore, is she not sufficiently knowledgeable about lit fic to give me a valid opinion, but also she is liable to give me a dishonest or over-positive opinion because she wants me to give her more food.

So, I have to decide who might be the best person for this piece of writing. I will show work to different people depending on what the writing is. Specifically:

• for non-fic articles for magazines, journals and newspapers  -  my husband, because he hates the idea of me exposing myself in public [not in that sense... well, yes, OK, in that sense, too] by making some silly mistake or seeming like an idiot, so his motive is to protect me.
• for letters ranting at companies that have not treated me with the respect I deserve  -  my husband, to protect me from legal action
  
• for an extract from a WiP  -  my editor if it's under contract; my agent at earlier stages (to protect me from my scary editor); whichever of my daughters (20 and 23) I think is more appropriate for the piece  -  because they all want the best for me and know what they're talking about.
  
• for a potentially controversial blog piece  -  Jane Smith of How Publishing Really Works. [Though, as I write this, she's apparently sitting in a radio studio wearing 6 inch heels and leopard print leggings so I may have to knock her off the trusted list...]
  

There are some things to note in that list, because they appear to contradict advice I've given about not using your children's, family's or friends' opinions to judge whether your work is good enough.

First, I choose these people very very carefully, trusting their knowledge and knowing that they will be honest.

Second - and this is equally important - I have learnt how to listen to and what to take from a piece of criticism. I can now mediate the advice and filter it correctly. So, when my agent or editor [the two most trusted experts in my writing life] say something negative or suggest changes, I filter that through all the things I've learnt about my writing habits and the reactions I get from "real" readers, and I can work out whether and to what extent they're right. Because no one, however "expert", is right all the time. As a published author, I have plenty of public feedback against which to measure my writing; I'm not operating in a vacuum. Unpublished writers are very much in that vacuum. Horrible places, vaccuums  -  you can't breathe in them.

The problem for unpublished or new writers is that every piece of negative criticism feels raw, sometimes shocking, and often confusing because it contradicts that entrenched [and necessary] belief that one's work is wonderful.

So, what's the answer? If you're unpublished and so don't have the public "official" feedback, how do you know whose opinion to trust, whether from a paid-for service or a crit group, or whatever?

1. First  -  the person must be Knowledgable and Honest. You will have to judge this very carefully and ask yourself why this person's view is worth listening to.
   
2. Second  -  if you have decided that the person or group is knowledgeable and honest, you must work out how you are going to use the advice positively. This does not always mean slavishly following it but it does mean opening your heart to the possibility that they are right and that following the advice may make your book much, much better.

Talking about better, I cannot better this excellent advice from Emma Darwin writing about How to Get the Most out of an Editorial Service. She's talking about taking paid-for advice but the same applies to any other forms of advice you might get. Regard any chance to get knowledgeable and honest advice as an opportunity not to be missed  -  it's what I didn't have during my years struggling to be published.

So, choose your advisors carefully but, once you have chosen them, trust them, though not necessarily slavishly. Ask yourself: if you trusted them, why should you ignore them when you don't like the answer? Was it that you didn't really want their honesty, just their adulation?

KILLING YOUR DARLINGS - SELF-EDITING FOR SOFTIES

One of my favourite writerly activities is editing my own work. Which is lucky, because it's also the most useful. It's also the skill that I know I've developed considerably since becoming published  -  I am much better at knowing much earlier what needs to go and how to rearrange what's left. I am becoming rather embarrassingly good at killing my babies. When they're misbehaving, anyway: obviously, sometimes my babies deserve to live. Then I dress them up and coo over them proudly (in private).

I suspect that this self-editing skill is very hard to acquire before you've been taken on by an agent or publisher, and before you're published. And thereby hangs the horrible Catch-22 situation: you can't fully learn the art of self-editing until you've been edited, and yet you won't ever be edited until you've self-edited your own work sufficiently to be taken on by an editor.

Don't get me wrong  -  I'm not for a moment saying I now don't need to be edited. Gosh, ask my editor if you're not sure about that. I still fail to spot things and I still need that expert outside eye. I plan to need an editor all my writing life  -  the day I think I don't need an editor is the day I become too arrogant to deserve publication.

Perhaps at this point you are thinking, "Never mind: I've heard that the editor will do it all for me so it doesn't matter if my work's not good enough when I first send it." If so, please a) stop right there and b) read this blog post about that.)

Perhaps at this point you are also thinking, "Pah, editing! Editing is censorship. Editing destroys the cathartic process of writing. Editing destroys the soul of my master-piece." If so, a) prepare to remain unpublished and un-read for a very long time and b) read this blog rant here.

Somehow, if you want to be published (or to self-publish successfully) you have to learn to look hyper-critically at your own work. You have to learn to see it through your readers' eyes (if you want any readers, that is). You have to learn what they will be thinking and which aspects of that you care about. You have to learn to spot, in your own work, the moment at which you risk losing a reader. And that's the baby you have to kill.

Luckily, instead of listening to me become crabbit on this subject, you can read this excellent post here from Editorial Ass. Please do read it because it really is excellent and there's no point in my repeating the advice. And do read the many useful comments below it. Lots of different ways to edit and some inevitable areas of disagreement -  this is not science, but art, remember. But lots of sense and practical advice. Work out what works for you, matched to your genre, as there are different requirements for each.

Edited to add: have just seen this great post from BubbleCow: Tips on Writing a Great Second Draft.

There's a reason why I think self-editing is so hard before you're taken on by agent or publisher: until that moment, you have to think that any negative comment is wrong. It's called cognitive dissonance: the inability to believe something that conflicts with an entrenched belief. Your entrenched belief is that your book is publishable, NOW. If an agent says, "Yes, I'll represent you because I think your book is publishable, but you'll need to change this, this and this," you think, "Hooray! they're right!" and you willingly change this, this and this. But when an agent says, "Sorry, I like lots of things about your book but it's not strong enough because of this, this and this, so I can't represent you," your inclination is to think, "Nah, just an opinion," and send it off to another agent.

Similarly, once you're taken on, you happily allow yourself to be guided because you trust this person. You trust this person because they agree with you: that your book is publishable. So editing becomes easier, you become open-minded instead of stubborn and blind, scales fall from eyes: suddenly you can see into your work like a reader, not just a writer. And self-editing becomes easier.

Trouble is, the actual writing doesn't...

www.pen2publication.co.uk
This may be the time to tell you that Pen2Publication is almost ready to go. I'm going to do a "soft launch" in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, you, my lovely blog-readers, are welcome to visit the website at www.pen2publication.co.uk and have a little look. I've got some great people interested in working alongside me, too, so we'll be able to cover more genres than I could manage on my own. You can email me if you like but I'm not taking clients quite yet.

Off to do some editing of my own work. Hooray!

MYTHS ABOUT WRITING

When my life hits its stupidly busy phases, I fall back on the useful practice of letting other people do the work. And when I came across this blog post recently, I bookmarked it for just such an occasion.

In case you need to be convinced as to my definition of busy, I should perhaps mention that at the moment I am trying to sell a house, buy two flats, write a novel, start a new business, keep up to date with my blog, create a new website, prepare speaking engagements and have a life. One day, I will accidentally iron the dog.

So, that post from Upstart Crow, about the lies you'll hear in workshops, is highly useful. And pointful: not only do workshop members often tell accidental falsehoodery, but so do members of your writing group and, definitely, your family. And friends. And anyone else who knows you unprofessionally.

When you're unpublished it can be all too easy to fall back on advice and encouragement from unpublished authors. And very understandably so, because it's probably the case that only unpublished authors will read your stuff and agree to comment. I'm not saying don't ask for advice from each other; I'm not even saying don't listen to it, or don't feel nurtured by it. I am saying don't act on it unless you can corroborate it with advice from someone who is either substantially published (and preferably in the right genre or at least an appropriate genre) or else is "in the business".

Since many / most of you are unpublished, you may now dislike me and decide never to listen to me again. Honestly, your willingness to advise each other is wonderful, and the comments on this blog reveal your general wisdom and knowledge. BUT, generally speaking you would rather have advice from an expert or someone with proven knowledge, than from someone who hasn't, wouldn't you? I only ask you to be careful and ruthlessly analytical about the advice you receive, from any source.

As an aside, I would caution you especially not to take advice about writing for children from anyone without experience of writing for children, or of publishing that writing. Thing is, people think if they can write, they can write for children. No, no, no, no, no. It's very different and the markets are different. Whole different set of skills and knowledge.

So, rely on your friends and family for support and chocolate; rely on the professionals for advice. Please.

I've done a couple of posts about myths myself: here  and here. In fact, that second one reminds me that this was supposed to be the start of a series. Note to self...

And now, excuse me, please: I need to go and see a dog about a house, or stand for Parliament or something.

THERE'S ONLY SO MUCH A CRABBIT OLD BAT CAN DO

Dear Crabbit Old Bat,
You give such good advice on your esteemed blog (bows, scrapes and touches forelock) that I wondered if you could help me? See, I am really trying my very, very best to follow all your words of wisdom (more flattery, more, more) but I still don't quite seem to have managed to get published. So, please go on my website, where you'll see I have put loads of samples of my best works, including the much-loved (by me) fantasy trilogy, The Mega-Magical World of Gloom Valley and the Invasion of the Man-Eating Night-Birds. I just wondered if you could tell me what you think and give me some advice to get me published. Go on, you know you want to! I'd be really grateful. Anyway, I know you're not really as crabbit as you seem!

Yours in anticipation,
A Fan

OK, I know I exaggerate, but only a bit. See, I've been getting a few of these emails recently. In fact, more than a few.

Of course I'm thrilled. My heart melts with a warm glow. I am touched. Especially by words like "esteemed" and "wisdom" and "Fan". And by the idea that you think I can wave a magic wand and help you.

On the other hand, I am not thrilled. There are a few reasons why I am not thrilled and why I have a minor frisson of panic and meh-ness when you (lovely) readers contact me in this way.

Reasons to say meh on receipt of such emails:

1. I am very (very) busy
2. I should be spending much more time on trying to earn a living. (Ask my agent).
   
3. I spend hours giving free advice on my blog, which I absolutely love doing but which I kind of feel is enough at least in terms of the free part
   
4. It takes a lot of time to offer individual advice
5. And there can be a severe downside  -  especially if you didn't like my advice. It could get personal. I'm not very good with personal: it tends to keep me awake at night.
   
6. Another downside is that unless we have a formal agreement at the start, you could turn round and accuse me of stealing your idea. Now, I know I wouldn't do that (I have enough of my own) but can I afford the time to explain that and get it cleared up before I read your tome?
7. Advice that might seem to you to be easily accessible in my head, all ready to be spewed out onto the keyboard, actually takes some time to sort out and set out and check
8. You are asking me to give professional advice for nothing. Would you expect a lawyer to do this? Or an accountant? Or a plumber? Or frankly, any self-employed person. Now I know that I'm not really crabbit but actually pathetically generous, and often say yes to things I shouldn't, but I have to draw the line, and the line is here.
   

In short, I have to ask myself the ruthless question, What's in it for me?

Now, there is an answer to this question which might help both you and me: next year, I plan to start offering individual advice, in the form of a professional critique service, talks and workshops. The planned name is Pen2Publication. At the moment I am thinking through the details with a partner. (While also doing my existing writing, if you're listening, o wondrous agent. And yes, that novel will get written...)

Ideas include:

• critiques at various levels
• individual advice on submissions
• residential weekends / days with around 20 aspiring writers, where we focus on "how to make a publisher say yes". I'd do the weekends in partnership with another writer.
  
• talks around the theme "Hurdles and Hooks  -  your road to being published"  -  I already have some events lined up for university Creative Writing MA courses, but I'll also do talks open to the public, or to existing writers' groups. (If your group might be interested, let me know).
  

So, what do you think? (See, there's me asking for free advice now!) I'm trying to assess demand and see what people would want. But it has to be secondary to my main writing work.

Meanwhile, to those of you who want to ask for individual advice, please bear in mind the downsides for me.  I can't / won't read your work for nothing  -  not even if you try to persuade me with boots, Hotel Chocolat or sparkly wine.

HOWEVER  -  if there's a small question of possibly public interest you'd like me to answer, do ask me and I'll blog about it if possible. (Email n@nicolamorgan.co.uk) I'll do it with or without naming you, at your instruction.

It's the "please read my work and tell me what you think" that's the problem. You may think, "she's a successfulish writer so she can afford to do these things." Unfortunately, successfulish only happens if I try to be balance free stuff with paid stuff. My agent  -  who reads this blog, so I should watch what I say  -  thinks I'm writing a novel. I am. I am.

Meanwhile, I hope you're all working hard on your entries to the Hotel Chocolat Halloween competition. Flash fiction is a genuinely great opportunity to hone your writing skills and write for a public audience. And with ten prizes, the odds are good.

MYTHS ABOUT WRITING: 1 - I CAN LEAVE IT TO EDITORS

Here begins an occasional series of short posts on Myths about Writing. The first one concerns a serious and oft-expressed misconception amongst writers when sending a submission to an agent or publisher.

MYTH 1: It doesn't matter if it's not perfect because an editor will want to suggest changes anyway and a copy-editor will pick up any minor errors. Oh, AND there'll be a proof-reader.

Both bits in blue are true; the bit in red is the mythical conclusion. I regret that nowadays the green bit may not be true either. Not using a proof-reader is a modern cost-cutting exercise and a very bad idea, in my view. Authors beware.

Let me tell you very briefly what those three people do, before explaining my main point.

AN EDITOR will make general comments and argue for changes relating mostly to fairly major things. For example:

• the pace  -  too fast here or too slow there. Here's a post I did on pace.
  
• voice slippages  -  see my post here for a lesson on voice control for authors
  
• characterisation issues
  
• plot structure, believability and consistency  -  things that don't ring true or don't work
  
• many other things she/he feels prevent your story being as strong as it could be
• smaller things that she/he happens to notice (including all those on the copy-ed's list below), but the editor is not required to pick up small errors when a copy-editor and/or proof-reader will be coming along afterwards
  

A COPY-EDITOR comes along once you and the editor have agreed all the changes, and looks for smaller problems such as:

• continuity errors  -  eg contradictory clothes / weather / personality traits / statements that you've made
• other inconsistencies and glitches
  
• odd / wrong usages of words
• sentences that would be better rephrased
• punctuation, spelling, grammatical errors and typos that the editor had not mentioned
  

The copy-editor usually doesn't have direct contact with you, but is instructed by the editor. The editor looks at the copy-edits first, then passes them to you with comments; you go through them and make such changes as you agree with, and then pass them back to the editor.

(Some publishers, particularly smaller ones, may not use a copy-editor but go straight to proof-reading. If, however, there is only an editor, with no recourse to either copy-editing or proof-reading, I'd be worried. Then it's down to the author to have the eagle-eye.)

A PROOF-READER is the final reader, working after the book has been type-set (because new errors can creep in during type-setting) and looking for:

• anything at all that the editor, copy-editor and author have missed
• any new errors that have crept in, however small
  
• errors of layout, such as incomplete lines, extra spaces, widows and orphans, instances where a paragraph is broken in an unattractive place when a page ends (the copy-ed may also have spotted these, though things change after copy-edits have been inserted)
• inconsistencies of house-style  -  eg single or double quote marks, en- vs em-dashes
  

I can understand that you might be thinking, "So, if they do all this, it doesn't matter if I submit my work to an editor or agent with a few errors in. In fact, isn't it a waste of time on my part to bother with such details at this stage?"

NO, NO, NO.

No.

Here are a few reasons why:

• while all these editing experts will bend over backwards to work with an author who is already with the publisher, they won't wish to do so for a complete unknown. There is good reason for this: they know that their existing author will deliver. For example, my editor knows exactly what she will get from me when she suggests changes: an intelligent response, a listening ear, a professional reaction. She knows [I like to think] that I am worth making effort for. But my editor does not know any of that about you  -  you might respond with crappiness or a blank look. You might fail to make the required changes because you may have made the errors in the first place through uselessness rather than oversight. Sorry, but that's how it is. Thing is, I and other published authors can get away with things that you can't.
  
• the editor does not actually make the changes: you do. The editor simply points out the problems. This means that you have to be good enough to understand exactly what is being asked and why. Again, the editor doesn't know this about you yet.
  
• if you send in a document full of glaring errors, this tells them that you are at best lazy and careless and at worst not a good writer. This is very different from sending in something that is beautifully written and structured, and perfectly laid out and punctuated (etc) but has a few things the editor would like you to do differently. If you send in the latter, the editor will want to work with you to perfect it; if the former, not.
• in short, you have not proved yourself worth investing in  -  so why should a publishing company risk a lot of time and money editing you to hell and back?
• first impressions count.  If in the first few pages you have even a couple of errors that indicate lack of brilliance of language, this may be enough to stop the agent or publisher reading on.
  
• brilliance does shine through errors, yes, and allowances can therefore be made. But think of this as an equation: the more errors and problems you reveal to your potential editor, the more stunningly brilliant your book must be in order to capture her confidence. Of course, you believe your book is stunningly brilliant, and you could be right. However, if you are so professional and determined to succeed, do you not want to show your best work to your potential backer? Because that's another thing an editor does: backs you and your writing, not just now but throughout your career with that publisher. And sometimes for longer  -  my first editor moved to a different publisher, and I moved with her. [Funnily, she's an old bat too. The attraction of bats, I think you call it.] 
• we are in a recession which is hitting publishing and authors hard  -  this means you have to raise your game higher; although perfection is unachievable, it should be aimed at more now than ever. That is a Good Thing. Published authors are also finding we have to raise our game in first drafts, too  -  some publishers are taking any chance to pull out of contracts and turn us down. Gah, it's a scary world out there  -  arm yourselves with the Shield of Stupendousness.
  

In short, do not contemplate offering your work to an agent or editor if you think you could make it better.

However, there's a caveat: it is possible to get so hung up on perfection that you never have the courage to send the damned MS. All I will say is that if you don't send it, you won't get published. So, aim for perfection, work hard to achieve it, but at some point make the decision that you have done the absolute best you can.

Then send it.

From that point, do not look at it again. Leave it and get writing your next book. You must not look at your first one again until a lovely editor wants you to make some little changes, which you will be absolutely thrilled to do...

I am going to blog soon about how to be edited and enjoy it. Most authors are only too happy with the idea of someone helping sort out their weaknesses, but a) a few are strangely reluctant to admit that they need it and b) even those who want it are often not sure how to deal with it when it happens.

CERTIFYING THE DEATH OF YOUR BOOK

Recently I noticed that my blog has 222 followers (now increased, which slightly spoils the point but please don't go away). I noticed because it's a cute number but then it got me thinking. "Not for 222" is (apparently) the medical code for a hospital patient so close to death that he should not be resuscitated in the event of heart failure.

It got me wondering how a writer decides his beloved book is "not for 222". How many times can you allow it to be rejected? At what point do you decide there's no possibility of life? Is your unpublished book terminally unpublishable?

Strikes me there are two situations where you might have to make the dreaded 222 order on your book.

1. Your Work in Progress (WIP) is not progressing. It's stuck. What started with an appealing idea and hook has ground to a halt. You have begun to force the plot-line; you know that it all now hangs on an episode which doesn't completely ring true, even to you, but you're determined to make it fit and you pile in more and more things to force the reader to believe in your story. You're starting to bite your nails in your sleep. There are bits of your book that you love and you keep reading them aloud to yourself, marvelling at the gorgeousness of your talent, but you know in a secret and painful part of your heart that your book has been built on sand.
   
2. Your finished book has failed (and failed and failed and failed) to find an agent or publisher. Some have given glimmers of hope, which you have clutched at and possibly exaggerated in your mind; your friends and family love your book (duh) but no agent or publisher seems to care about that; your writing group keep telling you to carry on trying - they mop up your tears and tell you you are brilliant and that publishers don't know what they're talking about or are "only in it for the money". (Well, yes, actually, if you mean that they can't afford to make a loss on every book they take on and they do have to eat like the rest of us.)

In each of these cases, a brave decision must be made.

Situation One is an occupational hazard of writing. It's an often fatal illness that happens much more often to books written by inexperienced writers. As you become more experienced, you'll spot the symptoms earlier and treat the cause before it becomes terminal. I have just done this with an idea that I was utterly gripped by until I began to look ahead and think the plot through. I foresaw fundamental problems in motivation and development, so I killed my baby before I'd developed a relationship with it.

(Note: we talk about the importance of "killing our babies" in writing and it strikes me that killing babies is a lot easier than killing adults. Metaphorically, I hasten to add. If you let your book grow and invest huge amounts of time in it, it's much harder to let it go. Whereas, spectacularly unlike real babies, an idea being stillborn is just a pinprick, something you have to get used to. Apologies for the unpleasant analogy.)

Situation Two
"How many rejections should I accept before giving up?" I was recently asked after a talk on how to get published. It's not the first time I've been asked it. Obviously, there is no answer, or not in terms of a number. In theory, you could send it to every agent and publisher who takes that sort of book, which might only be 20 or it might be 100.

But there are two more useful questions you should ask:

1. How many rejections should I accept before doing some radical re-writing of my work?

Answer: not very many, frankly. IF you have submitted your book to the right people (ie you have researched carefully and only sent it to agents and publishers who handle this sort of work) and IF you have followed all the guidelines so far given in this blog and the submission guidelines of the agents and publishers you've approached, and IF your writing is good enough and IF your book is sellable, then it is likely either to have been accepted or to have attracted some specific feedback, even if not an acceptance yet. So, IF the feedback has alerted you to a problem, you should be re-writing now. IF the feedback has either been inconsistent or has suggested nothing, you should consider getting (perhaps paying for) a professional critique of your work. But be careful to research very carefully the "professionalism" of this critiquing ... (Future post topic.)

What do I mean by "not very many"? Well, you ask me for a figure and figures don't really figure in this game. But let's say, for the sake of argument, not more than ten. No, eight. Seven?

"Only seven? Or even ten?" I hear some of you say. Ah, I don't mean you'll only send it to 7-10 agents/publishers; I mean you'll only send it to that many before taking a long hard look at what you've written (another long hard look because of course you've already given it dozens of long hard looks - I mean a long, hard, critical and objective look). Somehow, you must get a good opinion as to what's wrong with your book which means that you haven't yet hooked anyone.

Thing is, if you send it to 25 and they all say "no way" and then you decide you could have written it better, that's 25 publishers you can't really send it to again when you've improved it ... Well, you can, but it's tricky and needs some careful handling.

But I said there were two more useful questions and the second one is even more useful:

2. What should I be doing while my book is out there being read by an agent / publisher / anyone?

And the answer to this is dead easy: you're a writer, aren't you? So you should be writing. You should be throwing yourself into your next idea. If you're not, you're no writer, just a one-book wannabe. And no agent or publisher wants a one-book wannabe. No reader wants a one-book wannabe.

So get writing. Be fickle - turn your back on your beautiful slaved-over book and fall into bed with a new lover.

When you do that, you learn several important things:

• that your first book may not be as good as you thought it was
• that you can fall in love again
• that the death of a book is not the end of you as a writer
• that being a writer is about striving to be better all the time and that this happens with practice
• that if your first book is not good enough you actually don't want it to be published
• that actually you can postpone the 222 decision and wait for new technology to come along (in the form of your new knowledge gleaned from writing the second book) which might cure the disease
  
• that if at some point you decide to slap a "not for 222" on your first book, this will be a positive moment in your career as a real writer. And that you will (I promise) get over your apparently tragic loss.

Don't get me wrong: it's tough, it hurts, and even grown men cry. But if you have another WIP, it's not so bad. And you will not regret it. Ever. I don't know a published writer who hasn't got unpublished work in a drawer. And I don't know a published writer who really wishes that that unpublished work was published. God, I'm glad mine wasn't.

And a happy corollary that comes from all this is that resurrection and reincarnation both exist in a writer's world: it can sometimes happen that an idea or a book that died can rise again, later, when you are grown as a writer, and become something so much better and stronger and more beautiful than it first was.

We have to love our books with a passion but sometimes we have to let them die; or leave them lying in bed while we look ahead to the next one to love. Call yourself fickle, call yourself callous - it doesn't matter as long as you are writing.

If you have more than one book in you, let's see it. If you don't, give yourself a 222.

EDIT, EDIT, EDIT. THEN EDIT AGAIN.

I just came across this very interesting piece by Jenny Diski in the Guardian.

In short, she was asked to guest edit a student literary magazine, and then the student editors disagreed with her editorial judgement. They didn't like the fact that she didn't effuse when she didn't think the pieces deserved to be effused over. They appear to have found her attitude of honesty to be at odds with their aim to make the magazine "an encouraging platform for new and developing student writers".

Those of us who want to be good writers, as good as we can possibly be, must be strong enough to allow (in fact welcome) professionals to judge our work. If we don't open ourselves to the notion that our work is not perfect, or is not even as good*** as it could be, then we don't deserve to improve. Or be published. Taking criticism is not easy, and I'm not saying we should always agree with it,. but we have to be open to it.

(*** corrected thanks to BuffyS's superior editing skills - but I'm not paying you BuffyS!!)

In primary school you might expect to be told you're doing brilliantly when you're not (though I question whether that's a good idea either ...) but by the time we're adults we have to face up to our short-comings.

Critique groups and writing groups are also often guilty of over-effusing and under-criticising; partly because when someone delivers negative crits, all hell breaks lose and the fall-out from deflated egos can be ugly to watch. So, if you can't take criticism in public, don't be published, because you'll sure as hell get it once you are. Instead, either find a trusted person and listen to that person's opinions or learn to edit your own work to within an inch of perfection. That inch is as close as any of us can expect to get, but we have to try.

If you remember only one bit of Diski's excellent piece, remember this:

"What surprised me most was how many of the stories felt unfinished, as if I were reading a early draft. Problems with structure, sentences that need to be worked on, far too many easy clichés not rejected - all of this normal for a first draft, even a second. For me writing is the editing. It's where the you make the story your own. Draft, redraft, let the thing sit, and then consider it again, read closely, carefully, cut away everything that you haven't properly thought through, and some things that you have."

It just about sums it up. Accept nothing less from yourself than intended perfection, even if perfection is rarely actually achievable.

TRUTH HURTS - SO UNLEASH YOUR HIDDEN MASOCHIST

For a writer, there are sensible ways to take feedback and there are foolish ways to take feedback.

I won't add (much) to the vitriol hurled from and at two writers who got themselves into the news this week as examples of extreme(ly bad) ways to take negative criticism. Alain de B and Alice H will make up their own minds how to react to the feedback to their feedback to the feedback (aka reviews) to which they took such exception. Published writers must learn that some people will hate their books and must work out which negative crits they respect and which they think are rubbish. And how best to react. (Answer: not.)

But what of unpublished authors? What of the feedback that you get, if you're lucky, when you send your precious oeuvre to agent or editor asking for an honest opinion? I know, you don't really want an honest opinion, unless the opinion is "Brilliant! How much do you want for it?" But the fact that so many unpublished authors react unpleasantly to the more unwelcome honest opinions is partly what stops many agents/editors from giving any feedback other than "Sorry, I don't have room on my list." I know agents who've been told to rot in hell after saying that a piece of work wasn't up to scratch. Why should they put up with that when they're not paid and not likely to be paid if offered work that's crap?

Thing is, if you send your oeuvre to an expert, someone you plan to trust with your work during publication, you must accept his/her honest expert opinion when you get it. That doesn't mean you crumple into a heap and blindly make every change suggested if you don't fully believe or understand it, but it does mean that you consider closely what they say and accept that they know what they're talking about. Otherwise, why did you approach them, you deluded idiot? (Crabbit old bat is back.)

The author who does not listen properly to feedback from trustworthy sources (i.e. agents with a track record, publishers with a track record, writers with a relevant track record, and select readers who actually know what they're talking about, and NOT your relatives, friends, pets or even most members of your writing critique group unless they fall into the first category) is a fool and does not deserve to be published. Thing is, if a publisher happens to be taken in by your inferior writing and actually publishes it, readers will not be so forgiving: trust me. They will rip you to shreds on Amazon and your book will die horribly, messily and painfully. And you will be gutted and quite possibly throw a hissy fit. (In private, please.)

The aspiring author who, on the other hand, behaves like Jen Campbell, bravely and open-mindedly laying herself bare (not literally) and allowing herself to receive feedback in public from a host of people she has never met but has decided to trust on the basis that if they read this blog they must kind of slightly know what they're talking about, deserves publication and success.

The aspiring author who does all this and then generously gives me chocolate, just because I allowed her to be publicly judged, deserves to be published thrice-fold (or more) and then to win all the prizes going. Jen, thank you so much for the gorgeous Coco chocolate, pictured below - you honestly shouldn't have, but I'm very glad you did!

Vanessa's bookshop now seems to be the depository of presents for me. In case any of you need to know, for any reason of a donatory nature, her shop can be found at 219 Bruntsfield Place, Edinburgh EH10, and delicious chocolatier Coco of Bruntsfield is conveniently close by. Vanessa is also opening a grown-up bookshop soon, and I am equally happy to receive chocolate or sparkly wine there too. I am sure Vanessa is quite delighted to look after things for me.

Jen, you're amazing, even without the chocolate - you are an example of how to take feedback properly, maturely and constructively. There's no reason why you should follow it all but I believe what you're doing is seeing your work through the eyes of others and you know much more clearly what you might do to make it gorgeously and perfectly publishable. When you get there, let me be the first to know and I will give you chocolate too.

I also take my hat off to others amongst you who have submitted work to the Submissions Spotlights, either for children or adults, and especially those who sent their work in even after seeing the intensity of the comments that Annie and Jen so wonderfully dealt with. Congrats to Annie too - her response to the feedback for her children's submission was also wonderful.

Meanwhile, I'll be doing another spotlight on July 13th or thereabouts, and I haven't completely decided which ones to pick so do keep your submissions coming. Please follow the same rules as before. I was really pleased with how it went - I learnt from it too.

Thank you all for being such excellently contributory blog readers. You are restoring my faith in unpublished authors: see, I confess that before I started this blog I thought most of you were completely hopeless nutcases and that, on top of that, if that were not enough, many of you were also deluded idiots. Nutcases and idiots among you are obviously keeping quiet, which is quite the best thing for you to do, letting the sane and potentially publishable have their voice and show good author behaviour. Having so many published authors, agents and editors reading this blog is also an enormous help - thanks, one and all.

I can't send you chocolate (otherwise, of course, I would) but I can show you Jen's chocolate and the lovely Coco bag.