We Don’t Know What We’re Doing . . .
Unlit neon sign saying ‘You’ll get it eventually’.
Way back in April, I posted that I was Free, Free At Last because I had handed in the first draft of my Book 2. In a moment of unclear-eyed and rash hastiness, I even indicated that I might be able to share on this blog something about the editing process.
As it turned out, I wasn’t able to do that because:
I was so scared of messing it all up that it was all I could do to edit it, let alone think about how I was editing it too.
The realisation that people want to watch a documentary about Lewis Capaldi and how he copes with anxiety on Netflix; not so many people want to know how that man at the bus-stop who talks to himself copes with it. People want to know how Zadie Smith edits her novels; not so many people want to know how I do it.
I went on to receive my lovely editor’s notes on that first draft a couple of months later and yet again, I spent so much time panicking and wondering what the f*** I was going to do to wrangle that word-mess into a fully, functioning novel that I was able only to concentrate on achieving that.
Since then, I’ve received another set of lovely editor’s notes and have calmed down (a bit). I do remember finding other writers’ accounts of their editing process endlessly fascinating and ever so helpful in working out how to complete my first draft of my first novel. In case it helps anyone else, here is my attempt to describe the two sweeps of editing I’ve already gone through with Book 2 and what still lies ahead of me.
A shovel in the ground
First of all comes the sh*t-shovel edit which is done entirely in private without letting anyone else see what you’re doing. It’s called the sh*t-shovel edit because my writing chum, Louise Morrish, describes writing her first draft as ‘sh*tting sh*t words’ before adding the important proviso ‘but it doesn’t matter.’
And that’s the thing about your very first draft, isn’t it? It’s all about getting the words out there onto the page and wrangling them into some sort of shape. You may want to get your sh*t-shovel out after every few pages, each chapter or even continue crapping words out until you reach the very end of your novel. The important thing is that you get your shovel out and clean up before anyone else sees your work-in-progress.
New writers: this process can literally take years. Also please note, I’ll hazard a guess your words are not sh*t; they just seem sh*t to you. They could be better though, couldn’t they? All first drafts could be.
The Structural Edit is next where you send your draft off to your agent or editor who will read it with an eye to – no surprises here – its structure which covers plot, pacing, point of view, character development, B-stories. All the big stuff basically. All the most helpful stuff. They will also note bits that might not make immediate sense to someone who hasn’t spent the last year living with your cast of characters and which you may have to clarify or tighten up.
Obviously, receiving these notes is excruciating. I always compare it to getting into a swimming pool when you’re not sure what the temperature of the water is. First of all, you dip a toe in before lowering your feet, your legs, your bottom and before you know it, you’re all the way in, it feels lovely and you can’t remember what all the fuss was about.
It is, in fact, a wonderful privilege of someone wanting to publish your book that an experienced editor will read it for you and help you make it better. It is one of the things I used to dream about as an unpublished author and really, it’s as good as you hoped it would be!
This is where I am now and, if you are an aspiring writer, where I hope you will be too, one day.
Next comes the Copy Edit where another set of expert eyes (the Structural Editor and the Copy Editor are always two different people) will look over your work to double-check for factual errors, inconsistencies, flawed timelines, repeated words or phrases. My personal bugbear is including the word ‘that’ too many times and to prove, erm, that, I’ve deliberately not edited out all the redundant ones in this blog post.
The Copy Editor will also make sure that everything is in the house style.
The final stage is the Proof Read where someone with eagle eyes will closely examine the text for speling, the right way to does the grammar, “”punctuation” , spacing errors and the like. They’re rarely as obvious as I’ve just demonstrated and I’m awestruck as to how Proof Readers do it. With great care and attention, as the car sticker might say.
A woman wearing glasses biting a pencil in frustration at what she’s seeing on her laptop.
‘We Don’t Know What We’re Doing’ reflects how I’ve been feeling while I’ve been writing working on Book 2. It’s also the title of a collection of short stories by Thomas Morris that I read when it first came out back in 2015. Every writer has books they read that inspired them to keep going in face of all the rejections. This was one of mine.
Now Thomas has got a new book out called Open Up and like his first book, which had stories both real and fantastic (a group of Welsh men head off to watch a rugby international in Ireland; dead people watch their widows and widowers cope without them from the afterlife), these new short stories include a son and newly-divorced dad going to see a football international and a single seahorse, reluctant to couple up after seeing his parents’ somewhat dysfunctional relationship.
This got me thinking about short stories and how satisfying they can be. Here are a few I’ve enjoyed and links to where you can read them for free.
Notes from the House Spirits, by Lucy Wood.
A lovely, poetic story of how any house we choose to live in has as many thoughts, opinions and hopeful thoughts about us as we do about it.
Her Share of Sorrow, by Tessa Hadley
How books can be your refuge if you feel you don’t quite fit in.
After Dinner, by Katherine Heiny
Short and ever so bitter-sweet.