Following an Editor’s Advice—or Not
By WU Advertiser | December 10, 2024 |
Today’s “ad post” is also a valuable blog post written by our own Barry Knister, detailing his experience with two editors while preparing his novel, Someone Better Than You, for publication. Enjoy!
Deciding to work with an editor is a major decision. It costs money, and calls on the writer to do something analogous to what all good parents must do: love their children enough to let them go (at least until they come home and move into the basement).
That’s what the writer does when she turns over her baby to an editor. This person will get to know the fledging novel or memoir, but usually with no knowledge of how it came to be. That means, when the baby comes home, the writer must will herself into a kind of amnesia, in order to absorb and respond to the stranger’s reactions.
That’s why I urge writers to read a report, but to then put it aside for a week or more before going back to it. Otherwise, they risk acting or reacting on impulse.
Recently, I worked with two editors on my forthcoming novel, Someone Better Than You. By coincidence, both people are past editors for Penguin. In every respect, working with these editors led to improvements in my novel. I acted on most but not all of their suggestions, and what follows is my attempt to summarize the process.
RONIT WAGMAN
I first hired Ronit in 2020 to read and report on the full manuscript of what was then titled Ashley and the Jell-O Hour. Although she liked the story (“the world of the novel and the characters that dwelled in it felt deeply authentic to me”), she had several major criticisms.
AGENCY
In the version Ronit read, my main character Brady “Buzz” Ritz is a retired newspaper editor. His life is upended when he publishes a book of his anonymously published satirical columns. He blunders mightily by publishing the book’s second edition under his own name.
In this first version, Brady’s book comes about through the actions of others. The editor of Grumble (the little magazine that first published his column) talks Brady into developing a book of his work. Ritz’s best friend from his newspaper days gets an agent friend to find a publisher. Most importantly, the best friend shames Ritz into using his own name for the second edition.
As Ronit explained, I had made my main character the passive pawn of others. Someone else pushes him to develop the book, and someone else arranges for it to be published. Most importantly, someone else is responsible for Ritz publishing the second edition under his own name.
Ronit’s guidance led me to make Ritz less a passive actor, and more the responsible agent for his story. He still gets the idea for the book from his editor, but as Ronit pointed out, no agent would take on such a manuscript from an “anonymous” writer—because no publisher would be interested in such a book.
So, I replaced a commercial publisher with a university press whose editor has the freedom to publish something by an unknown writer. I also got rid of the idea of a second edition. Once I made these changes, I was free to make Brady responsible for the big decision to use his own name.
In this regard, Ronit’s valuable suggestion is summed up by “hubris,” the Greek word for overbearing pride or arrogance. For Brady Ritz to truly be the agent at the center of his story, he alone must decide to publish his book under his own name.
Why didn’t I think of this myself? Ritz titled his original column “Vanitas, Bitter Pills for a Saccharine Nation.” How could I not see that vanity would be the exact, almost compulsory flaw that would land him in a world of trouble?
PLOTTING
“The plot right now is a bit episodic; I would love to see a more causal connection between events.” Ronit also found the story slow, burdened by too much of what she called “interiority in repose.” Pacing was too leisurely; I gave too much emphasis to quotes taken from Ritz’s columns, and the story lacked physical action.
Fortunately, another effect of giving Ritz greater agency was to improve these other elements. It made for a tighter plot, and speeded up the narrative. It also led to fewer flashbacks, and fewer quoted passages from Ritz’s columns. Ritz was now in charge of a faster-moving story.
BACKSTORY
Ronit also wanted a more detailed past for Brady. She pointed to hints in the manuscript that suggested a past. Ritz was known for snarkiness in high school. I had also made a few undeveloped references to his parents, and to his boyhood dog Tunnel. These details led Ronit to imagine possibilities. “I thought there was going to be more there. Was Tunnel representative of the love he [Brody] didn’t receive from his parents? If so, why weren’t his parents there for him? Was their pregnancy unplanned?” Ronit believed “a fuller origin story could help evoke more sympathy” for Ritz.
TIFFANY YATES MARTIN
Other business (read “life”) intervened to delay my project, but in the time that followed I was able to rewrite the manuscript, and change the book’s title. Three years later, I contracted with Writer Unboxed regular Tiffany Yates Martin to do a second reading report. This time, though, I wanted editorial feedback on just the first fifty pages. I reasoned that if I’d made good use of Ronit’s guidance in my rewrite, a second editor’s reactions to the opening sections would confirm success. I had carried over the changes throughout, so I would be home free.
Like Ronit, Tiffany found much to like in what was now titled Someone Better Than You. What about problems?
AGENCY
Tiffany made no mention of Brady being on the receiving end of other people’s actions. Good. This meant my rewrite had solved the problem: Brady was now in charge of his own story.
Taking agency’s place was Tiffany’s own important insight, and she devoted half her report to it. “On both reads I felt that the story felt a little slow to hook us, and slow to get kicking…. It feels a little ‘quiet.’” Tiffany offered a solution: “I actually think you have a built-in compelling hook for this story that would offer good conflict, high stakes, and a strong story setup….”
The specifics are too complicated to detail, but Tiffany showed me a way out of my hook problem: something that occurs before the novel begins should be moved forward.
The story is told in the present tense, with a few extended flashbacks. As Tiffany made clear, the hook in my version—the first of two acts of infidelity—shouldn’t be remembered, but acted out. “I think this might give the story a more propulsive, engaging feel that invests readers more deeply and sooner in it and in Brady.* * * * That will tighten up the opening pages a lot, which I think will also help momentum.”
More forehead-slapping. Of course! In a way similar to Ronit advising me to make the two editions of Brady’s book into one, Tiffany was recommending that I find a way to combine two sex scenes into one, and to move that scene into the present tense.
I did so, and the positive effect was immediate. Better yet, this change now made it possible for me to reduce reliance on earlier events, and speed up the forward movement of the narrative.
PLOTTING
Like Ronit, Tiffany thought the story’s plot was too leisurely (“It feels a little quiet”). Unlike Ronit, she approached a solution by focusing on my main character Brady. “This story puts me in mind…of A Man Called Ove, and a bit of Fleishman is in Trouble.”
She found Brady to share attributes with these two characters: “irascible and irritable, seemingly a bit misanthropic and bitter….” But she qualified this view: “Please don’t misunderstand me—[Brady] is a wonderful, complex, fascinating character. I’m not suggesting you change or soften him, just that you perhaps widen the lens a little more and let us see a bit deeper than his crusty surface….”
BACKSTORY
“Widen the lens” was Tiffany’s metaphor for finding ways to soften Brady’s hard edges. Like Ronit, she wanted more detail related to what had made him the way he is. In other words, she wanted more backstory. Both editors thought that revealing more of his past would make my difficult main character more sympathetic for readers.
Ronit had speculated on whether Brady and his wife might have a troubled history. This went along with her musing that his dog Tunnel might be “representative of the love he didn’t receive from his parents.”
Tiffany also wanted more backstory, but for a different reason: to make more coherent why Brady seemed to “lack remorse” for how he had hurt others with his writing. She thought this lack must be explained by “whatever Brady’s pain or vulnerability or ‘wound’ is ….” She thought including such personal history would “let readers understand his behavior a bit better, and give them something to feel for and root for….”
TO FOLLOW ADVICE—OR NOT
In other words, both Ronit and Tiffany wanted me to give readers more of my main character’s past. This is almost always wise counsel. Readers want to know and understand characters. When writers skillfully weave past into present, they give readers the origin story behind the main actors.
I made several attempts to follow the advice. I wrote short passages related to Brady’s boyhood and adolescence, his college years. It was relatively easy to do, but what wasn’t easy was figuring out where to put the material. Everywhere I tried to work it in, the effect—for me—was to reverse what I’d tried so hard to do: to pick up the pace.
A more skillful writer might have overcome the problem. She or he would have gracefully melded past into present without slowing things down. But I couldn’t. I came to think that my efforts to flesh out Brady’s past were working at cross purposes with my efforts to speed up the story. It seemed that more of Brady’s past made his present less lively.
But there’s another explanation for why I resisted the reasonable advice of two capable editors: Their wish for more of the past might make for a better novel, but it would also be a different kind of novel. It would be more conventional. The past would serve to determine the present.
What I wanted was a story in which here-and-now words and deeds sufficiently reveal my characters. It’s how we reveal ourselves to others, by personal style and language, by words and deeds. We aren’t just the product of nature and nurture, but have the power to make free choices. I wanted Brady’s story to be true to this idea.
Because the essence of what makes Brady tick isn’t a wound or trauma in his past. It’s his preoccupation, his near obsession with language. It’s why he decides to go to grad school in English, and then his career as a newspaperman. A private language of words and gestures is at the heart of his marriage. It’s what gets him into trouble with others: the separateness that results from his being caught up by what most people don’t take so seriously—language. At one point, his wife Natalie tells him “words are deeds,” and that Brady is blind to how his words have caused embarrassment and anger for others.
What can account for such a preoccupation? A mentor or teacher in childhood? A retreat from painful loss or punishment into books when young? Maybe. In the novel, Ritz reads an obituary for a favorite teacher in high school. But maybe not. Maybe, say, a child with no coaxing or guidance, no trauma or wound, one day sees something in the grass, reaches down and picks up a golf ball. She is fascinated by its hardness and smooth yet bumpy feel in her hand. She decides to learn how to play golf–and plays it for the rest of her life.
I hope it’s clear how valuable I consider having worked with my two editors. I’m confident they helped me see ways of making my “baby” more coherent and energetic. But I didn’t take all their advice, and whatever the shortcomings are in Someone Better Than you, I alone am the agent.
An EXCELLENT post. Yes, you are the agent/author of your book–but these editors gave you valuable insight into your story. Kudos on the publication and thanks for your inisghts into the process.
Thank you, Carol. Publishing novels has many rewards, but what always happens–with me–is that after it’s out, I start seeing things I’d like to change. But I am the agent, so whatever isn’t right, that’s on me.
Wonderful post, Barry. You took us on your journey so beautifully and thoughtfully. And yes, you came to the very same conclusion as the other writers did whom I interviewed for a related piece that appeared right here on WU last summer: https://staging-writerunboxed.kinsta.cloud/2024/08/21/critiquing-the-critique-deciding-which-feedback-to-trust/.
In the end, as all of you have said, it’s your book. We can decide not to take the advice of the paid “expert” without feeling guilty or worrying that we’re “just” being defensive, myopic, close-minded. There is no one right way to tell a story. With a good editor, like the two you had, it’s important to ponder and consider respectfully what they have to say … and not to feel, as my father used to insist when I was small and we went to restaurants: “You paid for it, so you have to eat the whole thing!” Bravo!
Oh, this was timely. I’m sifting through a many-paged doc of developmental edits right now. Trying to navigate great advice vs what I think I can accomplish without getting bogged down.
Lausanne–only fellow writers can know what’s involved in “navigating great advice,” but at the same time not getting bogged down, not losing sight of one’s own convictions. Thanks for your comment.
Hello, Barry — Thanks for a very clear and useful post. Like you, I have received helpful and well-reasoned advice from top-notch experts whom I admire. And I have walked away from some of it. In the case of the second book of my series, I don’t doubt that doing so was to the detriment of sales.
In spite of rejecting some advice, and even suffering some consequence, I’m incredibly grateful for receiving it. In my case, with no advisor having read the entire tale, no one could actually see what I need to accomplish with this second edition of it. Whether they are missteps or necessary sidesteps, or even crippling stumbles, I am on my chosen path, eyes wide open.
Wishing you the best with the book! I’m keener than ever to read it.
Barbara–a wonderful, thoughtful comment. For some reason, your father’s admonition to children in a restaurant makes me think of another, this one the Pottery Barn policy related to clumsy shoppers: “You broke it, you own it.” Well, what we write is always broken in some way, because nothing we write is perfect. But we own it.
Vaughn–what you say is so true, and my comment to Barbara Linn Probst also applies to your words. I won’t say there are two kinds of writers, but I will say there are two points of view regarding readers: Does the writer keep her/his radar trained on what stands the best chance of succeeding commercially, or on what the writer truly thinks the story deserves? I know Someone Better Than You is definitely not for everyone, so maybe that fact helped me to push back against advice driven by two market-savvy editors.
Thank you for sharing a broader look at your journey, Barry, including how “serving the work” meant making an unconventional and (ahem) unboxed choice. The way you approached ideas that didn’t naturally feel right to you, with exercises followed by incisive analysis, is an empowering lesson in critical thinking for writers.
Wishing you all the best with Someone Better Than You! Write on, friend.
Therese–I will do my best to avoid gushing over how much you and Writer Unboxed mean to this “family,” but I’m happy you have put SBTY in the unboxed category. It belongs there, and I would say The Moon Sisters does too.
Very kind of you, Barry. Thank you. 🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔
Barry, I really enjoyed how you discerned what advice to keep and what to let go of. Thank you. Writing a novel is composed of a million choices and I’m often surprised how spot on those first choices can be, but shaping them into a beautiful story takes time and work and a look with fresh eyes. It’s great when the advice resonates–why didn’t I think of it? I’ve had wonderful editors over the years and it’s the back-and-forth that has been so instructive in my growth as a writer. Congratulations on the publication of Someone Better Than You!
Vijaya–You have always been a purveyor of common sense at Writer Unboxed, which as it turns out is often anything but common. You are right about the back-and-forth with editors. Real ones. They speak from positions of experience, and that means they challenge writers to think clearly about what they’ve done. What to change, and what not to. You could say it’s a very grown-up relationship and responsibility. Thank you.
Barry, I love this inside glimpse into your editorial process and working with editors. It’s something I think is too rare, and can result in a lot of authors going into it a bit blindered and unsure what to expect–and also unsure how to determine what is resonant feedback for the vision the author has for their story, and what input to take and what to disregard. Your insight into your process for all of that is so helpful and valuable. Choosing the right editor is so important, and making sure they’re a fit for you and your story–but so is knowing when to advocate for your own intentions, and what story you ultimately want to tell.
It was a pleasure and privilege to work with you on SOMEONE BETTER THAN YOU, and I’m so happy readers now get the chance to be part of Brady’s story too!
Barry, about to fly back to Chicago from LA, but will be rereading and keeping much of your post for your writing advice. Life is a journey and you have just completed a meaningful one. Congrats. Beth
Thank you, Beth. This is novel #7, but the journey never loses both its pleasures and pains. Safe journey to you.
Thank you, Tiffany. For your comment, and for the considerable help you gave me. The experience confirmed my belief that a writer who wants her/his book to be published “at the top of its game” needs to do due diligence to find the right professional editor, and then work with that pro. IMO, nothing can take its place.
Barry, all day I have been pondering your excellent and honest post, and what I have come to is this:
Both your choices of editor were excellent. Their advice cut to the heart of what the novel evidently needed, specifically pace and appeal of your MC. It is also true that understanding the psychology of a MC can be enormously helpful, and the origins of that naturally can be found in backstory. (See also Lisa Cron, who is strong on this point.)
That said, I feel that understandable as the impulse is, the issues in question are rarely helped by “more backstory” on the page. Pace suffers and MC appeal does not necessarily increase. So how is one to tackle the appeal of an irascible character? After all, we are going to meet the cranky person before we meet the exculpatory history.
Ove is a good example. Such a character has the same issue as any “dark” character: What is to like? Well, there is *something* to like otherwise we would not care or read on. Dark characters who capture us usually have wit, or honesty, and self-awareness. Cranky guys like Ove appeal, ask me, because with regard to the things they are cranky about, they are right!
Cranky guys voice how we really feel about things that genuinely are annoying. Grumpy old men movies work on the same principle (especially when acted by the great Walter Matthau). It may sound like I am advocating including more from your MC’s scathing columns, but no. Diaries, letters, etc. also tend not to work well (there are exceptions) as narrative devices. As your editors and you have correctly sensed, IMHO, most effective on the page is present action.
My two cents, for all that is worth, meaning that it sounds like your decisions have been sound, certainly for you. Now, when does your novel release? Will be great to see how all of this comes out.
Thanks, Don, for your detailed comment. The novel was released at the end of November. I haven’t yet changed my website to make that clear.
Only now do I realize that I’ve given anyone who reads this post a handy set of guidelines for identifying what I still got wrong. Ah well, “a poor thing, but mine own.”
Regarding Ove:
“Cranky guys like Ove appeal, ask me, because with regard to the things they are cranky about, they are right!”
I don’t disagree, but it think it’s worth pointing out a heavy dose of sympathy generation. Ove’s sweet wife was crippled in an accident, and now Ove is a widower who keeps being foiled in his effort to hang himself. Backstory includes aging in place in his line of work. In his cantankerous way, he befriends his bumbling neighbor and his pregnant wife. Ove also (again in his cantankerous way) ends up saving an abandoned cat.
In other words, a great deal is done by the author to generate sympathy. In this way, that story is more conventional than mine, but I too play the sympathy card in several ways.
Thanks again.
I will read!
You are right about all the sympathetic things about Ove, but we do not learn those things right away. At first, he’s just cranky…but oh, so right! The first scene (as I recall) is in an electronics store where some whiz kid is trying to explain to him the difference between a laptop and a tablet, or something like that. Ove doesn’t get it. And why should he! Think of all the confusing electronic crap pushed on us! Think of trying to make that crap work! One word: printers! Hell, I’m feeling cranky myself.
My point. Something relatable, maybe entertaining, precedes any explanation. I endorse your feeling to resist backstory as the solution to irascibility. There are other ways.
As I wade through a virtual tome from my fabulous content editor, I totally relate to your insightful column. Some editorial comments I’m able to confidently say “nope.” Others, I’m thinking “wow,” wish I had thought of that. Still others, I’m struggling to discern if my indecision is because I don’t want to let go of my darlings that I worked so hard to get just right, or if letting go would make the story better. It’s this last one that literally has me losing sleep. I plan to dive into my manuscript soon, and since I can’t swim, I’ll be dog paddling my way through and hoping I don’t drown before I make it to the other side.
Right there with you.
Densie–
“I’m struggling to discern if my indecision is because I don’t want to let go of my darlings that I worked so hard to get just right, or if letting go would make the story better. It’s this last one that literally has me losing sleep.”
Ay, there’s the rub. How can a writer just stop loving something that seemed so right, but that is raising questions or even seems wrong to an experienced editor? In the end, there’s no choice but to choose. In the end, We must decide what must remain, and what can go or be modified.
P.S. Thank you for providing the weekly research list for WU subscribers. It’s a labor of love on your part, and I am very grateful for it.