First, a tiny bit of housekeeping
I’m starting to drop audio versions of this newsletter into the This Creative Life podcast feed, and am also making it possible to listen directly from the email if you prefer.
The newsletter will be off next week as I’ll be in the middle of the Lesley University MFA residency, then I’ll be back!
On Becoming a Good Self-Editor
I’m the kind of writer who needs a good editor.
The early drafts I turn in are far from the absolute masterworks you see before you when you read one of my finished books. In my unpolished versions, I overplay some things and underplay others. I tend toward a bit of melodrama (I attribute this to my love of classic After School Specials and the Lifetime movies of the 90s). My characters say too much and too directly. The shape of my plots is hazy at best.
I’ve been truly blessed by the editors I’ve gotten to work with throughout my career, and learned so much from them—especially the importance of pushing past what’s in easy reach, whether it’s an emotional beat or a metaphor or image or plot point. I’ve learned that when I’m sure I’ve pushed myself to the limits of my abilities, I can still press a little more and keep closing that gap between what’s in my head and what’s on the page.
But I’ve also learned that the best thing I can do for my writing is to try to be that person for myself.
Editors at publishing houses are mostly overworked. Even if they have a reasonable load (I really haven’t met one who does), you’re not their only author. They’re always juggling many books at every stage of the process, from acquisitions to final proofs. They’re in meetings, doing paperwork, chasing down contracts, answering agents, waiting on colleagues in the various departments involved in making a book, communicating with their authors, and doing all the other stuff that comes with the job. Not to mention the actual reading and editing of manuscripts.
In the best-case scenario, the editor-author process involves you each doing your utmost before passing it back to the other. And the author goes first. I’ve learned from experience that it’s a mistake to offload the responsibility for making my book the best I can to my editor or any other outside party.
That’s the best-case scenario, and not always possible due to the publishing schedule, or about what’s going on internally for an author. For example, when I’m burned out, when I’m feeling uncertain, when I’m overwhelmed, I want the relief of “well, it’s out of my hands now.” I want to make the book someone else’s problem for a while.
Sometimes that’s just how it is. You hit a wall and feel you can’t go on until you’re not alone in it anymore, or you have gotten lost somewhere along the way and need help finding the path again. There’s no shame in it, and editors understand this almost as well as authors do.
Ultimately, though, my best experiences with my books are when I’ve done the absolute most work I possibly can on my own. And if you’re in a stage of your writing life where you don’t have an editor, doing the most work you possibly can on your own is the only option.
This is why my number one goal when I’m working with my MFA mentees is to help them become writers who can play that role for themselves when they graduate. I want them to be able to push, encourage, and problem-solve. I want them to start to identify their weak spots on their own, to be able to guess at what I’m going to say before I say it.
How is this skill developed?
☑️ Reading like a writer is one important way. That is, looking outside the frame as you read published works to try to see the strings that the author is pulling, noticing the intentional choices they’re making, and guessing at the things they decided not to do.
☑️ Writing for a reader. Like a lot of writers, I’m a fan of leaving the inner editor out of the first draft process. But that doesn’t mean you can’t or shouldn’t think about a reader. Sometimes it’s helpful to imagine a specific reader when you write—your younger self, your best friend, your worst enemy, or your made up ideal reader. Thinking specifically about someone you want to impress, blow away, prove something to, make cry, or delight can help apply a gentle pressure that spurs you on to do your best.
☑️ Workshopping. I know I spent the entire last edition of this newsletter talking about how you can learn the writing craft on your own, and I mean it and believe it. But if you do have the opportunity to join a good writing group, do a summer workshop, or exchange manuscripts with a writing buddy, at least give it a try. In some ways, reading the works-in-progress by others is even more helpful than reading published work. We can be blind to our own pet issues at times, but as you learn to give helpful critique to others, you’ll start to see where you make the same missteps. You’ll begin identifying them sooner in your drafting process, too, maybe even catching them before they get onto the page.
Some relevant resources:
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Browne & King. This one has been around a long time. According to the all-seeing ‘Zon, I first bought a copy in 2004. I think that makes it a modern classic?
Refuse to Be Done by Matt Bell. This is not the first time I’ve mentioned this book here and I’m sure it won’t be the last—I’m in the middle of reading it now, and it may be my new favorite writing book. It’s a great balance of practical and emotional advice. (Bell also has a newsletter.)
This revision checklist I made for a workshop I taught years ago. It’s a distillation of reminders and questions to ask yourself about the major areas of revision when you’re working on your second through tenth (or however many) draft.
This Creative Life is a book, a newsletter, and a podcast from me, Sara Zarr, about reading between the lines of a writing life. The newsletter and podcast are free; buying the book helps support them and me. You can also make one-time contributions if you like. Check out the options under Support at thiscreative.life or jump right to ko-fi. Sharing the newsletter is a great help, too!
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