The Dreaded Editorial Letter
By Guest | December 4, 2016 |
By Rodger Evans, via Flickr’s CC
Please welcome back guest Densie Webb whose first novel is You’ll Be Thinking of Me. Densie is currently working on novels two and three, and she’s also a nonfiction writer/editor, mainly about health and nutrition. She has written for The New York Times, Parade, been a columnist for Prevention, Family Circle and now writes for industry and trade organizations. She added fiction to the mix about six years ago and never looked back. She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association, SheWrites, the Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Romance Writers of America. She’s a music lover, walker (not of the dead variety), dreamer, warm-weather enthusiast, and has now acquired all of the usual writer quirks, including the uncontrollable urge to write about people and things that live only in her head. Connect with Densie on Facebook and on Twitter.
The Dreaded Editorial Letter
I recently received the Editorial Letter from my developmental editor for my second manuscript. Eight debilitating pages, single-spaced, in addition to imbedded comments on almost every page. As you probably know, either from experience or hearsay, editorial letters can be traumatic. They are not for the faint of heart or the easily discouraged, but they are a necessity. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.
With my first manuscript, I waited a month before I worked up the courage to open The Letter (without a deadline, I was afforded the luxury). This time, however, I ripped off the Band-Aid and clicked “open” with equal parts excitement and trepidation.
It was like someone telling me I’m beautiful, while punching me in the gut, knocking the air out of my lungs. As with any good editor or critiquer, my editor provided positive feedback “This is a WONDERFUL framework for what I think can be a compelling, romantic and affecting story.” But there were lots more, “What is this?” “I don’t understand?” “This is a recap.” “How does this move the story forward?” And plenty of, “Why?” “Why?” “Why?”
On your first read through said letter, thoughts of self-flagellation may be front and center—as they were for me—as well as doing harm to said editor. (How dare she call my protagonist weak?) It’s only after you’ve had time to digest your editor’s words will you be able to step back and nod in hearty agreement and forgive them their perceived sins, even if you haven’t a clue how you’re going to address any of it.
Not long after receiving my letter, I enrolled in and binged on Aaron Sorkin’s Masterclass on scriptwriting. He said that he himself always works with someone to get advice on what needs to be “fixed” in his drafts. And he said that he always nods in agreement during the meeting. But, he also said, and I’m paraphrasing here, “By the time I’ve left the office and am pushing the down button on the elevator, I want to kill myself, because I have no idea how I’m going to fix anything.” Even the esteemed Mr. Sorkin finds the process difficult.
Everyone’s approach to addressing the Editorial Letter is different, just as everyone’s approach to writing differs. Granted, this is only my second time up at bat, but I think I can offer some useful advice for coping with that dreaded letter that will keep you from committing hari kari or editorial homicide. 
So far, it seems to be working—both my editor and myself are alive and well. But bear in mind that if you’re lucky enough to land an agent and/or a publisher, you get to do this all over again! At least twice.
- When you spot the email from your editor in your inbox, breathe deeply, make a cup of tea (or a stiff drink) and brace yourself. No matter what your mom, your best friend, your neighbor, even your crit partner told you about how wonderful your story is, a good editor is going to be brutally honest and tell you things you’re none too pleased to hear about the story you spent the last two years nurturing. Just remember, that’s what you’re paying them for.
- Go somewhere free of distraction before you click “open.” And go there alone. This is too personal and often too painful to share before you’ve had time to process it.
- Read the letter with the “macro comments” first. Save the specific comments imbedded in the draft for later. Otherwise, your head will explode. Trust me on this. I’m still picking up bits of gray matter from the floor.
- Get a yellow highlighter and mark the good stuff. “This is a great character trait,” “I love this backstory” and reread them when you’re feeling especially discouraged, overwhelmed or despondent.
- Once you’ve had time to process the letter and decide the editor might just know what she’s talking about, open the marked-up manuscript. Think of those comments as footnotes to the items in the letter. They’re specific examples of what you’re already been told in more general terms.
- Now you’re ready to jump in and “just do it.” If you wait until you have it all worked out in your head, it will never happen. Kind of like waiting until the “right” moment to have kids. The result would be zero population growth.
- Tackle structural problems addressed in the letter first—timelines out of whack, inciting incident too far back in the story, getting rid of irrelevant secondary characters, changing or strengthening the motivation of a protagonist, adding conflict, reworking the ending. Use index cards, corkboards, Scrivener, Donald Maass workbooks—whatever works for you.
- After the big picture problems are “fixed,” then take on the individual comments within the pages. As you address the comments, other problems will jump out like pages in a pop-up book. They can’t be ignored.
- When that’s done (three more difficult words were never written) go back, reread the editorial letter. Make a bulleted list of things you’re not sure you’ve addressed thoroughly and reread your manuscript for the thousandth time.
- Address the items in your bulleted list, read the manuscript for the 1,001st time, hit “send” and hold your breath until it comes back, pointing out problems you were so confident you had fixed.
The key to keeping your sanity as you tiptoe through this manuscript minefield? Approach the process with an open mind, a willing heart and a deep desire to make the story the best it possibly can be. Nobody said it was going to be easy. They just didn’t say it would be so hard. Or so satisfying.
What are your tips for…or experiences with…editorial letters? We’d love to hear!
Many thanks to today’s guest.
You can read more WU guest posts by visiting this link.
Thanks so much for your post, Densie. And your honesty. This April I got such a letter and though there were many things I adamantly disagreed with (No, I’m not taking my 48 year old protagonist and making her a teenage girl; that’s not the book I’m writing) there were other things where I nodded my head and knew she was right. So I put that version of the novel in the proverbial drawer and kept the major characters and began to write a different novel (and yes, the POV character is still 48) that is stronger, richer, deeper (thank you Lisa Cron). Without that developmental edit, I would not have gotten here. The willingness to listen is a needed tool for all of us. Even if what we hear sometimes sucks big time.
Maggie, I totally agree. You read everything, mull it over and decide which comments fit into your vision of your characters and your story. “The willingness to listen is a needed tool for all of us.” yes!
An editor who makes such a radical suggestion is wrong. I can state that with assurance because I am an editor, and I’ve written many editorial letters. I always emphasize to my clients that it is *their* story. I might brainstorm with them and suggest changes to make their story work better, but would never mess with such an essential element as the protagonist. That’s so disrespectful to the author’s vision. Wrong, wrong, wrong. [Shakes head and reaches for the chocolate…]
Oh, and I’m bookmarking this post to send to my future clients. It’s very reassuring. Thanks, Densie!
Thanks for sharing your strategies! I must confess, my first thought after reading your article was this old but still funny video by author Lara Zielin: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKkR9S2lq6Q
Grace,
Hilarious! It’s such a universal experience among writers, yet we all seem to feel so alone when it happens to us.
Such a timely post! I received feedback this week simply on my synopsis and query letter which threw me into a tailspin. I had to shut down the computer, step away, and get a good night’s sleep before I felt ready to even read the comments and suggestions. Had to step away AGAIN to digest what she’d said and how I might go about fixing it. Then another good night’s sleep. Thank you for a step-by-step guideline to order my world and calm my brain. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. Not looking forward to the eventual MS editorial letter, but, one step at a time. Right?
Lyn,
You CAN do this. It ain’t easy, but it can be done. And, yes, a good night’s sleep works wonders for coping! One. Step. At. A. Time.
I loved this because it’s exactly what I expect from an editor whether I submit a piece of fiction or non-fiction.
I’ve always been lightly edited for the articles I’ve written, which is great for the ego but it doesn’t help you grow as a writer. I came to realize that no matter how good my writing might be, I still need to be edited–and not lightly.
In late October, I submitted an article about diabetes and blindness. Overall, I wasn’t happy with it because no matter how much I distilled the information for a consumer audience, it still read like an article from a medical journal. When I received the edits, I almost swallowed my tongue. Once I read through them, I saw exactly what she wanted for future articles.
Editors are not the bad guys. They have a job and that’s to turn us into better writers with a great story.
Rebecca,
I’m with you. When I’m lightly edited, I feel cheated. But that doesn’t lessen the sting when the edits are heavy. I’m a writer and an editor, so I can vouch for the fact that “Editors are not bad guys.”!
Hi Denise (not I think Densie)–
Something in Maggie Smith’s comment caught my eye: “No, I’m not taking my 48 year-old protagonist and making her into a teenage girl….”
Something every writer needs is ego and backbone. Robert Lowell is right when he says “we either bend or break,” but it’s no good being a pushover, either. That goes for working with editors.
And something else: on two occasion in working with hired-gun editors, I became convinced that the editors were over-commenting. Too much of this dilutes the value of what matters most. I also came to think that in part this behavior had to do with wanting me, the writer, to know I was getting my money’s worth. Or that the editor wanted to control me, not improve the manuscript.
In other words, lots of things can be going on when working with an editor, and the writer needs to be vigilant.
Barry,
Actually, it is Densie. But I answer to Denise just as well. A life-time of mispronunciation. I totally agree with “ego and backbone.” The problem, for me at least, is being able to recognize when I’m actually right and when I’m simply resisting change. It’s an advance writerly skill, I think. One I’m still work on.
Densie–Sorry about the name business. I thought a touch of dyslexia (something I’m more than a little familiar with), was in play. Of course you’re right–when is resistance warranted, when is it based on too much ego, or fear.
No worries, Barry. Like I said, it happens ALL the time. I think we writers need some sort of “resistance barometer,” to know where we stand!
I haven’t submitted my work to an agent or publisher yet, so I haven’t received the “dreaded editorial letter,” but I’m bookmarking this page for the future! I just hope I remember I’ve bookmarked it when I’m banging my head against my keyboard.
That said, I have had experience with an editor going over my work, and while it stings, I love the feedback! I can’t see what an editor does. Rewriting isn’t my strength. So I look at editorial feedback as a roadmap to follow to make the story stronger. It’s a tool for my writer’s toolbox. An “a-ha!” tool. And it almost always makes my story better.
Diane, a good editor is indeed an “aha” tool. One that every writer needs in their toolbox! I hope you won’t be banging your head against the keyboard, but if you can’t find the post, contact me and I’ll get it to you!
Solid advice, Denise. I am so thankful for editors. I’ve grown as a writer because of editors who’ve preserved my voice while still demanding greater clarity in all things. Occasionally, we’ve had disagreements but the willingness to listen on both sides has been very important.
Vijaya,
Yes, “willingness to listen” is key. I think the first instinct is always to resist, but it’s essential to give it time and be open to suggestions.
Ack, I didn’t mean to mistype your name but did. Sorry Densie.
Like I told Barry, it happens on a regular basis. So no worries. It’s an unusual name that happens to be incredibly close to a much common one.
Excellent post, Densie – it was great to meet you last month at UnCon!
One thing I try to remind myself when receiving editorial advice is how fortunate I am to have somebody putting their time and energy into providing feedback that they hope will help me succeed. Whether their advice is a “fit” or not, I’m still glad to receive it.
On a tangent, do you think that Sorkin course would be useful for a novelist? I absolutely ADORE Sorkin and would be willing to have his baby (did I just say that out loud?), but I’m not currently interested in screenwriting per se. I’d be eager to hear your thoughts – thanks!
Keith,
Wonderful to meet you as well (even if we disagreed on the idea of a muse!). It’s so true about being grateful for the feedback. Even if the questions or suggestions don’t exactly mesh with your ideas, they often offer a springboard for other paths the story can take. About Sorkin–I have no plans to be screenwriter either, BUT I thoroughly enjoyed the series. There are assignments, but I basically just binge watched the lessons. For me, it provided another way of looking at developing a story. Several of the lessons show him in a writers’ room with aspiring, talented young screenwriters. It was fascinating to watch the process and his feedback.
Thanks for such a wonderfully timely post, Densie! I just completed the first round of DE’s for my second novel. I was lucky enough to have the same editor again, which made the process much easier. We understand each other. However, my approach is slightly different. After digesting the letter, I go all the way through the MS once, taking care of the small stuff (while keeping a list of page numbers to go back to). Besides giving me a (mostly false) sense of accomplishment, this reacquaints me with the story, so I’m better equipped to rethink the bigger changes that have been suggested. Thanks again for such a great post!
Patricia, yes, everyone has their own process for the editorial letter just has everyone has a process for writing. Glad you’ve found one that works for you!
Hi Densie, cool to see you here. I had a developmental edit done on my novel these past few months and I opened the comments with hope. My editor found much to praise and much to change. But when you get close to your work, you really cannot see it anymore. The edit was needed and I’m still working through, would you believe, the first two chapters. Since August. But that’s okay. More threads are being woven into the text and the scene I needed to move up is moving closer to the beginning. I had much to cut and change. It all takes time, takes love, takes being open. Thanks for your list. Sometimes I take a break for a day or so, hoping things will be a bit fresher on the page. Beth
Beth, so glad you “dropped by”! So true that when you get close to your work you just can’t be objective anymore. That’s why I think a good DE is indispensable for most of us writing mortals. And it takes as long as it takes to get it all done.
Great post! After the initial punch of an editorial letter, there comes the ‘aha’ moment when you recognize all the positives.
Dianne, Exactly. Sometimes it takes a while for that “aha” moment to arrive, but it’s worth the wait.
Densie,
Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
I plan to send my manuscript to an editor I have in mind. I’ve done some research and I think he knows his craft well. I hope he does! I hope he makes deep cuts into my work and shows me how to sew it back together to build a better novel.
Tina, Best of luck with your DE! Here’s hoping for deep cuts that allow you to sew it back together to make it even stronger.
Oh, Densie, I loved this. When the editorial letter came in for my latest, I wanted to hit my head against my computer screen and tell my editor “YOU fix it!” because those favorite notes “I’m not seeing her motivation here” coupled with “I’m bored here–and here–and, oh, here,” made me want to weep. Fine. Just fine!
But the fixes weren’t as hard as I’d imagined, and the joy at the end when we hear, “Yes, that’s it!” means we can actually move forward knowing we’re not working in the vacuum of our own illusions.
And for that I say, “Glory.”
Normandie, LOL with the idea of telling your editor, “YOU fix it!” Totally get that as well as the urge to weep. I think if you’re not feeling that way, you either have a less-than-competent editor or you’re either in denial. :-)
I have also been in the seat of receiving the editorial letter. After I pick myself up off the floor, I remind myself the comments aren’t personal. My writing can be better and I have the help to make it better. That’s what I focus on. But I want to say, as an editor myself, don’t be afraid to ask questions of your editor. I encourage my clients to ask me questions and I have made phone meetings with my editor so I can ask questions of her. Your editor wants you to succeed and if the comments are puzzling or even troubling, ask for a further explanation. Asking doesn’t mean you aren’t going to follow what they say. You want to be the best writer you can and learning is the way to do it.
Stacey, thanks for your comments. You’re absolutely right that the whole purpose of hiring an editor is to make your work better. Nobody likes to be criticized, even when criticism is given in the most diplomatic manner, but like it or not, having an objective eye suggest what can make your writing better is a crucial part of the process. We all want to be “the best writer we can be.”
Great post, Densie! I will definitely be including a link to this post in all future editorial letters I send. No matter how you try to couch your critique, it still hurts the writer. But this is all excellent advice.
Erin, thank you! It’s good to know it’s resonating with editors as well as writers and it warms my heart to think it might have legs to help other writers in their journey.
Thanks so much for the helpful post. I have been working with the terrific developmental editor, Kathryn Craft, on a new book that is so different from anything else I have written, I had no clue what I was doing. We have gone through two rounds already and she sent me 12 single-spaced pages of notes. LOL
Reading through the notes, I went through many of the same reactions you had with your experience, especially the first time, and I cracked up when I read your third bit of advice. “Read the letter with the “macro comments” first. Save the specific comments imbedded in the draft for later. Otherwise, your head will explode. Trust me on this. I’m still picking up bits of gray matter from the floor.”
I’ll have to check the floor in my kitchen where I read the pages. LOL
But I do agree with you on the benefits of working with a good editor. Even though I do editing, I hire editors for developmental help, as well as for copy editing.
You’re lucky to be working with Kathryn. But watch out for that pesky gray matter. Don’t step in it. :-) Best of luck with the next round!