I’ve got a number of deal-breakers for me when I’m reading slush or, when I’m writing my dreaded “dear author” letters for my clients – these issues seem to crop up the most often and make me sigh. A lot. This one’s affectionately called “head hopping”. First-pass edits that I do usually end up with loads of red ink or tabbed comments that state just that. And if you’re currently thinking of disembodied heads bouncing down the road then some of my work here is done.
Before we get into what head-hopping entails, we’re quickly going to look at a story’s point of view. There are some other fancy-pants literary terms for this, but I want to keep things as simple as possible because I don’t want your eyes to glaze over or your brain to implode.
When you write a story, one of the first things you need to decide is who the narrator is. This is the person telling the story.
Your first-person narrator uses the pronoun “I” and writing the story feels like a personal account.
I went down to the harbour, bought some chips, and fed the seagulls.
What’s lovely about first-person point of view is that it lends the text a sense of immediacy. We’re reliving a series of events through the eyes of an unreliable narrator who a) might be lying to herself about what’s happening or b) simply doesn’t have all the information at hand to make informed decisions.
There’s a degree of uncertainty. Did events really transpire as the person suggests? Think about how you retell some of your misadventures as a teenager compared to how your mom would. Each narrator will add flavour to a story, based on their beliefs and personal biases. (Your mom might say you came home after your 18th birthday looking like the Wreck of the Hesperus, which says quite a bit about your mom – and you.)
Then there’s second-person point of view, where the narrator uses the pronoun “you”, and the story feels as if it addresses the reader.
You went down to the harbour, bought some chips, and fed the seagulls.
See what happens there? You’re the one who’s in the story. You’re the one who’s getting greasy fingers feeding a bunch of squawking birds. This style isn’t very common, and can be quite tricky to execute well. My own opinion is that I’d find reading a novel-length work in this style incredibly tiresome.
Lastly, we have third-person, which would see the point of view a bit more remote.
She went down to the harbour, bought some chips, and fed the seagulls.
Now, we’re reduced to voyeurs, viewing the events as one would watch a movie. Third-person point of view is, at present, the most prevalent style of writing. In fact, I’ve met quite a few readers who balk at reading any other style (missing out on all the lovely first-person narrations out there).
For more funzies, there are basically two ways of treating third-person point of view. One I’m going to tag as deep third-person point of view and the other is omniscient point of view.
Your bog-standard fiction tends to be a deep third-person point of view where you’ll have one character’s point of view in each scene or chapter. This means that although we’re learning why Susie went down to feed the seagulls (she was feeling sad because James left her), we don’t also know what Billy, her stalker, was thinking. In fact, Susie wasn’t even aware that Billy was watching her that day until we see a later chapter where we’re in Billy’s point of view and he’s looking at the photos he took that day.
If we were writing omniscient point of view, and doing it well, we would, perhaps halfway through the scene, swap points of view to Billy, who’s sitting on a boat nearby with his camera. Authors who shift smoothly, would give some sort of transition in their writing, clearly showing how they change in point of view. Think of it like watching a movie, where the camera pans from one face to another. If you have choppy camera work, hopping back and forth between points of view rapidly, the story’s going to suffer.
Now I’m going to be absolutely straight up. Every editor has his or her preferences, and as an editor I absolutely loathe third-person omniscient. [BIG DISCLAIMER: THIS IS MY OPINION – other editors may vary] This is where the author is writing from some sort of god-like perspective, showing readers what multiple characters are thinking in the same scene.
While there is nothing wrong with writing third-person omniscient, it’s also not a convention that is at present popular within the realms of commercial and genre fiction. That’s not to say that third-person omniscient, is wrong, per se, it’s just that there are few authors out there who manage to pull this off with any real flair. At this point, I’ll nod at Sir Terry Pratchett as possibly one of the best examples of this style of writing well done. Go read his Discworld novels to see how this is done.
In the majority of the cases I encounter, writers' attempts at multiple points of view in one scene, often result in a garbled, muddled mess. The actions, dialogue and thoughts of different characters get so hopelessly entangled in one paragraph, I sometimes have to resist the temptation of hurling my coffee mug at my very expensive computer screen – an action I will most certainly regret instantly.
If you’re absolutely dead set on writing omniscient point of view, my advice is to consider the idea of establishing the voice of your narrator. Who is telling the story? Develop the author’s character as the teller (think of what makes Roald Dahl so awesome – go read a few of his stories). Think about the fact that the author is presenting him or herself as the storyteller, providing a framework upon which the actions and words of the characters will hang.
The difficulty here is developing individual characters’ personalities to make them stand apart from each other. The other drawback is that because your narrator has godlike powers, you risk falling prey to the temptation of revealing all of the secrets too early, thereby robbing a story of much of its mystery and tension. Alternatively, you’ll withhold key information under the impression that you want to build this tension. (Think of a murder mystery where the murderer is a viewpoint character who conveniently neglects to consider that he or she has done the deed – yes, I’ve read traditionally published books that fall prey to this sin.)
Often, I feel that new new authors write a third-person omniscient point of view because they feel they need to show all the aspects of the story. To them, I say: RESIST THE TEMPTATION. Resist it. You can. I promise you, holding back on secrets is good. It makes giving the big reveal near the end an even better surprise. Readers don’t need to know everything all at once. Feed them morsels so that they’ll keep wanting more. If a character doesn’t know something DON’T mention it. If they do, and it's absolutely vital to the story at that point, find a way to foreshadow in a way that doesn't feel as if you're doing it for the benefit of readers.
I promise you, when there’s a fight scene, you don’t need to show what the hero and villain are thinking at the same time. Pick one. Show how they perceive the other party, how they analyse the situation then aim to survive.
Whatever point of view you write, seat yourself firmly in the head of your chosen character. Or, if you’re an author-narrator, think of the tone of how you show your world. Think of your story in terms of you holding the camera. The moment your camera work requires jagged shifts, realise that this may well disorientate your audience.
Lastly, there are no hard-and-fast rules. But there are conventions, and a savvy author will know when and how to play outside the bounds of these conventions. My advice is to colour inside the lines for a bit first before you’re comfortable to do something a bit more risqué. Like invoking my serious side-eye at your bouncing heads.
Bio: After surviving a decade in the trenches of newspaper publishing, where she fought against the abuse of the English language, Nerine Dorman is now a freelance editor and designer who is passionate about words that not only sound good, but look damned good too. She’s also written a few books. You can stalk her on Twitter or, even better, support her authorly aspirations via Patreon. If you’re feeling particularly brave, and would like to inquire about her editing rates, you can email her at nerinedorman@gmail.com
Showing posts with label editor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label editor. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Monday, July 1, 2013
Why the nasty editor rejected your story
I’m one of those unfortunate souls who wear both the author and the editor hats. I know what it’s like on both ends of the scale, so I reckon it’s time I dish three of the main reasons why the nasty editor rejected your story.
The story wasn’t ready for publication
I know authors. They see a call for submissions. They get all hot and bothered and quickly dash off a short story. Then *maybe* JUST MAYBE they’ll get a friend to read it over and go over one more time to see if there are any gremlins. Then they press SEND to inflict a MS that is riddled with all sorts of awfulness.
Or the author’s been writing for a short while. They still have loads of bad habits, be it head-hopping, inability to punctuate dialogue or basic, technical writing skills that need to improve. Let’s face it. Some people aren’t natural writers. To them it’s a mechanical process, yet they yearn, with every squeeze of their little black hearts, to be the next Stephanie Meyer or Dan Brown. And yes, given time, they might overcome their technical issues, but JK Rowling and George RR Martin they are not. Yet they persist in writing stories that need more than just a little bit of spit and polish to remove the rough edges—which are many and varied.
It could also be a matter of story craft, of developing characters, balancing narrative summary with action sequences. Perhaps a story has reams and reams of exposition. These are all things you learn as you gain more experience.
But with all the aforementioned issues, the plain and simple reason why the editor rejected these stories was because they simply weren’t ready for publication. It’s not always easy seeing what’s wrong with your own writing, but that’s why it’s important to learn whenever you receive critique from your fellow writers or, if you’re even luckier, have an editor write you a personalized rejection letter.
It bored me
Sometimes an editor will read a story and it just won’t hook them at all. I’m sure you’ve heard agents and editors say this before: This is a highly subjective business, and it doesn’t reflect on your personal capabilities but…
There’s always that big BUT (or a butt if you're feeling particularly nasty). Plainly put, an atheist editor won’t relate to Christian inspirational fiction, and there’s a good chance a romance fan won’t want to read hardcore military SF.
Be honest with yourself. Are your characters three-dimensional? Does the dialogue flow naturally? Are the action sequences believable? Are you certain your premise isn’t just another Twilight clone?
Everyone’s got likes and dislikes, and you need to understand that you’re not going to please all of the people all of the time, no matter what you do.
Follow submission guidelines
It’s simple. Whether you are querying an agent or submitting a short story to an anthology, READ THE SUBMISSION GUIDELINES AND FOLLOW THEM.
You have no idea how many authors submit material that is not to spec. I’ve had 23 000-word novellas submitted to an open call with a limit of no more than 3 500 words. And I’ve had Christian inspirational fiction submitted to a horror anthology (I kid you not). Not to mention thinly veiled flash fiction based on whatever TV series or movie is popular at the time. Don’t even get me started on The Walking Dead or the Saw films… These are out-and-out rejections. Why? Because you evidently don’t read. That’s why.
Lastly, if an editor rejects your story, don’t try to get snippy with comments like “Ah well, it’s your loss” or “You don’t know quality when you see it”. (Yes, I’ve had THOSE authors too.) You’re really not doing yourself a service, and if I see your name crop up again in future calls, I’ll hit the delete button without bothering to read.
[deep breath and tucks away the spleen]
I am currently looking after the Tales of Darkness and Dismay imprint (Dark Continents Publishing) and am open to queries of short story anthologies and novellas. From time to time I also take on select clients for developmental edits. Anthologies I edit include the SA HorrorFest Bloody Parchment (eKhaya, Random House Struik), Dark Harvest (Dark Continents) and The Sea (Dark Continents). Query me at nerinedorman@gmail.com
The story wasn’t ready for publication
I know authors. They see a call for submissions. They get all hot and bothered and quickly dash off a short story. Then *maybe* JUST MAYBE they’ll get a friend to read it over and go over one more time to see if there are any gremlins. Then they press SEND to inflict a MS that is riddled with all sorts of awfulness.
Or the author’s been writing for a short while. They still have loads of bad habits, be it head-hopping, inability to punctuate dialogue or basic, technical writing skills that need to improve. Let’s face it. Some people aren’t natural writers. To them it’s a mechanical process, yet they yearn, with every squeeze of their little black hearts, to be the next Stephanie Meyer or Dan Brown. And yes, given time, they might overcome their technical issues, but JK Rowling and George RR Martin they are not. Yet they persist in writing stories that need more than just a little bit of spit and polish to remove the rough edges—which are many and varied.
It could also be a matter of story craft, of developing characters, balancing narrative summary with action sequences. Perhaps a story has reams and reams of exposition. These are all things you learn as you gain more experience.
But with all the aforementioned issues, the plain and simple reason why the editor rejected these stories was because they simply weren’t ready for publication. It’s not always easy seeing what’s wrong with your own writing, but that’s why it’s important to learn whenever you receive critique from your fellow writers or, if you’re even luckier, have an editor write you a personalized rejection letter.
It bored me
Sometimes an editor will read a story and it just won’t hook them at all. I’m sure you’ve heard agents and editors say this before: This is a highly subjective business, and it doesn’t reflect on your personal capabilities but…
There’s always that big BUT (or a butt if you're feeling particularly nasty). Plainly put, an atheist editor won’t relate to Christian inspirational fiction, and there’s a good chance a romance fan won’t want to read hardcore military SF.
Be honest with yourself. Are your characters three-dimensional? Does the dialogue flow naturally? Are the action sequences believable? Are you certain your premise isn’t just another Twilight clone?
Everyone’s got likes and dislikes, and you need to understand that you’re not going to please all of the people all of the time, no matter what you do.
Follow submission guidelines
It’s simple. Whether you are querying an agent or submitting a short story to an anthology, READ THE SUBMISSION GUIDELINES AND FOLLOW THEM.
You have no idea how many authors submit material that is not to spec. I’ve had 23 000-word novellas submitted to an open call with a limit of no more than 3 500 words. And I’ve had Christian inspirational fiction submitted to a horror anthology (I kid you not). Not to mention thinly veiled flash fiction based on whatever TV series or movie is popular at the time. Don’t even get me started on The Walking Dead or the Saw films… These are out-and-out rejections. Why? Because you evidently don’t read. That’s why.
Lastly, if an editor rejects your story, don’t try to get snippy with comments like “Ah well, it’s your loss” or “You don’t know quality when you see it”. (Yes, I’ve had THOSE authors too.) You’re really not doing yourself a service, and if I see your name crop up again in future calls, I’ll hit the delete button without bothering to read.
* * * *
[deep breath and tucks away the spleen]
I am currently looking after the Tales of Darkness and Dismay imprint (Dark Continents Publishing) and am open to queries of short story anthologies and novellas. From time to time I also take on select clients for developmental edits. Anthologies I edit include the SA HorrorFest Bloody Parchment (eKhaya, Random House Struik), Dark Harvest (Dark Continents) and The Sea (Dark Continents). Query me at nerinedorman@gmail.com
Friday, September 7, 2012
Beware of the Editor, she bites
I keep swearing to myself I’m not going to post any more “how to” or “editor” posts on this blog, but occasionally I’m moved to have a bit of a rant about pet peeves, or shit I’ve seen authors catch during the past year. Sometimes I wish I could reach through the computer screen and physically shake some sense into an author whose manuscript I’m editing but jawellnofine. That isn’t possible.
I do, however, feel like carping on about some of the shit just so I can feel like I’ve gotten it off my chest. Because I can’t afford therapy.
I’ve been editing other people’s shit for almost a decade now and, while my knowledge base is still growing, I’ve been around the block enough times to see people pull the same shit over and over again. Different authors/writers. Same shit. Some things never change.
The writers I adore sort their shit out and I don’t see them repeating past mistakes. These hardy souls show a marked improvement in their writing and make me feel as though I’ve contributed to improving the written word. But there are others, a disproportionate amount, who have the attitude that it’s the editor’s job to somehow wave a magic red pen and make it all better. That after a document has been edited, it’s somehow ready to go off into the wild and woolly world of publishing. This is bullshit, of course.
But allow me to bitch just a little bit about the most common gripes I have. This is easy shit you can use as a check list that will already make it so that an editor will not be reaching for her magic red pen so that she can stab you repeatedly in both eyeballs until you bleed out on the floor.
1) Attack of the “killer He/She”. Watch out for starting all your sentences with pronouns. If almost every sentence in your paragraph starts with He/She/His/Her … I’m sure you catch my drift. Related to this is finding pet words/phrases that reoccur either within the same paragraph or on the same page. If a word jumps out of the page and grabs you by the eyeballs, and looks awfully familiar of a sudden, it’s usually because it’s already appeared very recently.
2) One of my all-time favourite instances of that result in my already infamous tabbed comment of KILL THIS WORD is the word “suddenly”. My rule of thumb is that if a novel has more than three instances of this word appearing in it, it’s three instances too many. This is a lazy word and if you find yourself writing it, please, for the love of all that is dear to the heart of a Grammar Nazi, look deep within yourself to figure out if there isn’t a better way to express the suddenness of whatever action is taking place. Ten to one, the use of a stronger verb will sort this shit out.
3) Listing of clothing. I don’t care if Laurell K Hamilton sells millions of books and she does it, but please, please, please, with tears in my eyes, don’t give us a hair-to-shoes description of EVERYTHING each newly introduced character is wearing every time they walk into a scene. Just don’t. Go look at how Stephen King or George RR Martin or JK Rowling show what their characters look like. Then think about how you can apply it to your own writing.
4) Head-hopping drives me bugfuck. I know for a fact it drives most of the other editors I know completely bugfuck. Yes. Bugfuck is a word because I say it is. Terry Pratchett and Frank Herbert write very good third-person omniscient viewpoints. Unless you are confident that you understand the mechanics of writing third-person omniscient, rather don’t do it. Current commercial fiction trends show a preference for deep third-person viewpoints, with one viewpoint per scene. My rule of thumb: *resist the urge* to tell your readers absolutely fucking everything. Keep ’em guessing. Limit the number of viewpoint characters you use, don’t give away all the secrets, and you’ll have a tighter story with much stronger tension.
5) Something else that can be lumped with the *resist the urge* sub-heading is exposition. I have this alarming habit of taking my red pen and slashing big red lines through pages and pages of back-story and exposition. I make authors cry. For good reason. Because ninety percent of the time when an author starts chapter one with the prehistory of his character’s childhood, and who they dated in high school, and what their favourite food is, and why, my eyes have glazed over after the first sentence and I start twitching. Yes, there are authors who’re awfully good at delivering lush, delicious exposition that suck me in. But they’re in a minority. If you’re still learning the ropes, rather don’t do it. Find creative ways to share information. They exist.
6) Motivation. Believe it or not, I like to know what your character is thinking when he abruptly veers off the road and drives his car into a tree. This goes hand in hand with layering. Show your readers what your character is seeing, thinking and feeling. I want to know why Bob kicked the dog or decided to take that twenty dollar bill lying on his colleague’s desk.
7) Starting your sentence with a present participle is generally not a good idea. [smiles] It’s not wrong, but it often results in repetitive sentence structure or even that dreaded dangling participle. If you don’t know what a present participle is, don’t worry. Just try not to start a sentence with a word ending in “ing” and you’re on the right track and you won’t make your editor cry.
8) Watch your “it”. It’s not wrong to start a sentence with “it”, but it’s easy to fall into a habit, so take a long, hard look at that sentence and ask yourself if “it” is really necessary. Ten to one, stronger sentence construction exists.
9) “There was” or “there were” constructions aren’t wrong either, but they’re also dirty little habits. Filler words, as such. Stop being lazy as fuck and search deep into your twisted little black heart and ask yourself if it’s truly necessary to use that construction. Most times, it isn’t. Now brand that into your brain.
10) While there are plenty more nasty, dirty, evil little quirks that make me bitey, like overreliance on the word “that”, or incorrect punctuation of dialogue, the last one I’m going to bitch about here is filter words. “I saw”, “Polly heard”, “Winston thought”. I’m sure you can think of a bunch of other ones. Get into the habit of when you see yourself writing along those lines, to pinch yourself hard and work to avoid that type of sentence construction.
There you go. There’s plenty more where these came from, and authors are well known for finding new and unusual ways to mangle the English language. These little points are the most common I’ve had to try to beat out of folks of late. Catch me next year and other issues will be trending. No go out and read books outside of your genre, and read widely. And for the love of all that’s unholy, try to absorb what your editor teaches you so that you don’t make her all stabbity and twitchy.
Yes, I am a red pen for hire, and if I haven’t scared you off, or you feel you can benefit from having me leave tabbed comments saying KILL THAT WORD all over your darling, you’re welcome to query me at nerinedorman@gmail.com to find out what my rates are.
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