Editorial Process

[kateelliott]

For me, one of the more interesting aspects of collaborating on a novel was what I learned up front and personal about how other writers approach the editing process. As I remember it (and remembering that my memory may be faulty), my co-authors on The Golden Key both prefer to turn into their editor a draft that, all else being equal, they would be willing to see published as is. Not that they didn’t ‘want’ to be edited, only that they didn’t want it to be seen by anyone at all until it was as polished and gleaming as they could make it.

I don’t approach the editorial, and “early reader”, process in quite the same way.



I do not belong to a workshop, I should note. I did once, for about two years, and while I enjoyed it, it wasn’t my cup of tea all in all.

However, in a way I do ‘workshop’ my novels through the editorial process and the “beta reader” interaction. I consider working with an editor as a collaborative process - not into the heart of the work (that’s my purview, mine mine mine!), but into where the hands function.

My actual first reader, when I can get him, is my Spousal Unit. He suffers through my interminable discussions of plot points, doubts, triumphs, and endless obsessions and outbursts in any case, so his role doesn’t fit truly fit into the above.

I also have a few beta readers who kindly slog through various iterations of the penultimate draft (e.g. Draft 4.1, or 5.2, etc). Their questions and comments often alert me to unexpected problems or, more commonly, may highlight - or force me to acknowledge - issues that I had a sneaking suspicion were . . . well . . . problems. Beta readers also give me a sense of how passionately, or coolly, people respond to the basic narrative.

I actually prefer to send a draft to the editor when it is about three-quarters to five-sixths (or so) ‘finished’ - in terms of drafting revisions, not in terms of the complete narrative story (obviously I send a complete story). Some of the language, especially toward the end of the manuscript, is ragged, and excess verbiage still needs to be cut throughout; certain flaws are as yet unfixed, in some cases because I haven’t yet decided how to fix them; in other cases, I think Issue Z may be a problem but want to run it past an editor or readers to see if the same thing jumps out at them as is nagging at me. It might be that the way these other readers flag the problem, the words or descriptors they use to define it, may help clarify how I want to deal with it.

I guess you could argue that I’m not skilled enough, or confident enough, to revise entirely on my own. Or that, as a youngest child, I’m accustomed to having people tell me what to do, or like to be told what to do.

Naturally, I would argue differently.

I’m a structural writer. I cannot stand people sticking their fingers into the proposal or the early drafting process. It’s not ready for discussion. Too early in that process, and the architecture of the narrative isn’t yet framed and built. That architectural frame I must have in place before I’ll let anyone see it.

But if the feedback comes too late in the process, then there is no wiggle room at all for changes.

So I’m willing to send out a draft with a certain amount of ragged writing in order to get feedback into that last bit of wiggle room I have in the structure. Not for anyone to “tell me what to do”, but to get feedback and see what that feedback triggers in relationship to my own thoughts about the way the story flows.

I guess in some ways it’s like commissioning a structural inspection of a newly built house before you do the internal decorating. Sometimes I need to move a wall or re-route some of the wiring or, god forbid, install different plumbing (okay, that metaphor is stretching it a bit).

I’d be interested in hearing other people’s take on the editorial process.