The most misused word in unpublished manuscripts

Photo by Kelly Sikkema.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema.

I’m still nursing my most recent cold-that-will-not-die, so this month’s post will be particularly focused and brief.

Can you spot the problem with the following sentence?

“Her face reflected a deep anger.”

Phrases like this show up all the time in manuscripts, just as they show up all the time in speech. The issue is with the word “reflected,” which we often use metaphorically as a synonym for “showed” or “indicated.” There are plenty of contexts where this swap works perfectly, as in “Her behavior is a reflection of the society she lives in” or “His tastes reflect his upbringing in 1960s Paris.”

The difference between the first and later examples is one of directionality. “Reflect,” at its core, refers to one thing bouncing off another (think of light reflecting off a pond or your face reflected in a mirror). This sense of an outside force hitting one thing and then being cast back is preserved when we say someone’s behavior reflects their upbringing or society. In contrast, when we read people’s bodies as conveying something about their interior selves, we are experiencing that communication not as reflections but as straight lines directly connecting us to those other people through their faces or gestures.

Now, can you find dictionary definitions that would allow the first sentence to pass as proper English? Yes, you can. And I doubt anyone reading the phrase would be confused about its meaning. But good writing involves thinking deeply about language and choosing the words that best convey the ideas you want to express. When it comes to describing the relationship between a character’s thoughts or feelings and his appearance, please take a moment to reflect on the fact that there are many, far better words to use than reflected.

Photo by Dmitry Ratushny.

What is an editor?

Photo by Karen Lau.

Photo by Karen Lau.

“Editor” is a word that gets tossed around all the time, but many people remain understandably confused about what an editor’s job actually entails. The purpose of this long-overdue post, then, is to clear up at least some of that confusion.


Independent or In-house?

There are a couple ways to classify editors, but the first thing to know is whether they are independent or in-house. As suggested by the name, in-house editors work for a traditional publishing house. Their jobs involve both preparing accepted manuscripts for publication and reviewing solicited manuscripts. If you are traditionally published, they will probably be your primary contact at your publisher.

In contrast, independent editors work on a contract basis for writers. These are the people you will typically send your manuscript to before either submitting to agents or self-publishing.


Developmental, line, or copy?

Editors may also specialize in a particular kind of editing. At a traditional publisher, your manuscript should go through three general stages: developmental, line, and copy editing.

Developmental, or content, edits look at big-picture issues and can include things like plot and character development, timeline consistency, and, really, anything that could require major revisions to your book.

Once the general shape of your novel has been solidified, the manuscript will move on to line edits. Line edits focus on language and writing style, including phrasing, clarity, tone, and the general leanness of the text.

The final stage is copy editing. Copy editors are looking at the minute details of punctuation, grammar, spelling, and formatting style.

There can, of course, be overlap between these stages, especially line and copy edits, and editors who identify primarily as copy editors may take a broader view of their jobs.

Photo by Etienne Pauthenet.

Ideally, self-published authors will also either hire multiple editors to handle the different stages of the editing process or else hire one editor for multiple passes. In reality, though, many writers balk at the prospect of shelling out for more than one editorial pass, if they are willing/able to hire a professional editor at all. As a result, some independent editors (like myself) will offer more comprehensive single-pass edits that address developmental, line, and copy editing all at once. The obvious problem with this is that there is no professional follow-up edit to check the subsequent changes or catch anything missed on the first pass. In these cases, the final editing responsibility ultimately falls on the author.

Fortunately, writers in the pre-submission stage should not need the same level of thoroughness before sending to agents or publishers. Yes, you want your manuscript in great shape before sending it off. But once you actually land a contract, your novel will endure many additional revisions, first (probably) from your agent, and then from your publisher. Instead, writers looking to hire an independent editor as a prelude to traditional publication should understand what kind of edits they really need and be clear from the outset about what they are looking for. Doing so will save them time, effort, and, potentially, money.

The in-between

Although independent and in-house editors represent the far ends of the career spectrum, many of us actually fall somewhere in between.

For instance, I am both an independent editor and editor for the indie publisher Drum Tower Press. Whereas an editor at a traditional press would have final say over what edits must get made before a book is ready for publication, my role at Drum Tower is essentially supportive to the author/founder, P. A. De Voe. In other words, at Drum Tower, the author runs the show, taking input from her editor and readers and then making the final decisions about her publications. That power is, after all, why writers often choose to self-publish. But while most indie authors must contract out for editing, the editing at Drum Tower is done by one of its co-founders (me) in-house.

Today’s publishing landscape is filled with a plethora of publishing options, from large traditional publishers, to boutique houses, to scrappy micro and indie presses. In response, the roles of editors have become nearly as diverse. But regardless of the specifics of our jobs, all editors share a desire to polish the author’s work to its finest shine before it enters the broader world, and thereby give that work its best chance of success.

Pep talk: Why writing and writers matter

Photo by Kevin Maillefer.

Photo by Kevin Maillefer.

In my previous post, I wrote about how creating the worlds, characters, and stories that resonate with you is the first step towards developing novels that feel believable to, and engaging for, your prospective readers. During this season of good cheer, I want to shift that focus to the importance of writing, full stop. After all, nearly every writer, whether aspiring or published, must grapple with the doubts that plague creatives: Why am I doing this? Does what I make matter? Does the world really need more novels (or art or music)? Should I have become a doctor like my parents wanted?

Photo by Kevin Goodrich.

Photo by Kevin Goodrich.

Putting that last question aside, here are a few things to keep in mind when doubt (or existential dread) hits, especially during the long nights of winter.


Literary fiction improves emotional intelligence and may promote empathy

As reported in Scientific American, a 2013 study by social psychologist Emanuele Castano and then-PhD candidate David Kidd at New York’s New School found that subjects were more capable of interpreting and understanding other people’s emotions after reading excerpts of literary fiction than those participants who read genre fiction, non-fiction, or nothing.

According to the researchers, this is probably because literary fiction, which uses ambiguously written characters and focuses on the complexities of psychology and relationships, often forces readers “to fill in the gaps to understand [characters’] intentions and motivations.” In contrast, popular fiction is typically populated by clear, consistent characters that lead those stories through exciting journeys to predictable ends. As a result, genre fiction rarely forces the reader to work to understand characters’ minds and tends to confirm, rather than challenge, our assumptions about behavior.

Because the abilities to identify and understand emotions in others are key components of empathy, Castano and Kidd’s study may also be interpreted as showing how literary fiction does, in fact, promote empathy along with success in navigating complex social relationships.

Of course, these conclusions are a little hard on genre fiction, which contains a wider range of psychological subtlety than this study reflects. For writers, it might be more helpful to think of the results this way: forcing readers to think deeply and critically about complex characters’ motivations and states of mind fosters greater interpersonal understanding in the world at large. And our world could definitely use more empathy.

See the researchers’ in-depth article on the relationship between literary fiction and Theory of Mind, originally published in Science (October 2013), here.


We all need a little escape sometimes

Alright, so literary fiction improves the world by making its readers better people. Cool. But where does that leave popular fiction?

Well, first off, fiction of all kinds offers readers something everyone needs: an opportunity to de-stress. According to a 2009 study summarized in the Telegraph, reading is actually the best way to relax, even beating out walking and listening to music. And the result is physiological as well as psychological. Reading for as little as six minutes relieved tensions in the muscles and heart.

According to cognitive neuropsychologist Dr. David Lewis, "It really doesn't matter what book you read, by losing yourself in a thoroughly engrossing book you can escape from the worries and stresses of the everyday world and spend a while exploring the domain of the author's imagination.

"This is more than merely a distraction but an active engaging of the imagination as the words on the printed page stimulate your creativity and cause you to enter what is essentially an altered state of consciousness."

At this point, we all know how seriously chronic stress can affect our health, leading to disease and even premature death. So consider this: your novel could help people cope with their stresses and thereby help extend their lives.


Empathy, the sequel (or, Genre fiction strikes back)

A 2014 study with elementary, high school, and college students reported in the Journal of Applied Social Psychology under the title, “The Greatest Magic of Harry Potter: Reducing Prejudice,” successfully demonstrated how reading Harry Potter “improves attitudes toward stigmatized groups,” specifically immigrants, homosexuals, and refugees. Essentially, by portraying otherwise marginalized peoples in sympathetic ways and making prejudice a major characteristic of the series’s villain, the books fostered empathy in their readers towards these marginalized groups. As such, Harry Potter not only illustrates a way in which genre stories can contribute to fostering more inclusive societies, but also exemplifies the importance of incorporating thoughtfully-written diversity—and the consequences of prejudice—in our books.

Fiction makes us smarter

It should be a no-brainer that reading improves vocabulary and our understanding of language. Like other forms of cognitive activity, it also improves memory, and helps to reduce memory loss and other forms of cognitive decline later in life.

But more impressive is the way reading fiction (again, even more than non-fiction) can improve other cognitive functions. According to the authors of a 2013 study from the University of Toronto entitled “Opening the Closed Mind: The Effect of Exposure to Literature on the Need for Closure,” the “need for cognitive closure has been found to be associated with a variety of suboptimal information processing strategies, leading to decreased creativity and rationality.” By assessing the participants’ need for cognitive closure after having them read either short stories or short non-fiction essays, the researchers found that those who read fiction “experienced a significant decrease in self-reported need for cognitive closure.” These results were most significant for those subjects who were already habitual readers. The researchers therefore concluded that reading fiction “could lead to better procedures of processing information generally, including those of creativity.”

Photo by Jakob Owens.

Photo by Jakob Owens.

So, in summary, fiction—YOUR fiction—has the ability to make those who read it healthier, smarter, kinder, more rational, and more creative. In so doing, our books can help form a better, more inclusive and empathetic society. If those aren’t good enough reasons to keep writing, well, your standards might be too high.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Christmas is almost upon us, and I have work to finish, gifts to wrap, and New Year’s resolutions to make.

Happy Holidays!