In this analogy, the straight trees are grammatically correct sentences. The bent, broken and twisted ones are the more fluid parts of our language, things that have changed, or are in the process of changing or, though strictly speaking grammatically incorrect, can be used stylistically to good effect or to reflect modern speech and cultural differences.
The split infinitive is one example. Since we mostly speak in split infinitives now, to insist on writing without the splits is petty and will sound wrong in situations where informal speech is required. The fragment is another example; although traditionally grammatically incorrect, we often speak in fragments, and their judicious use in written English, even outside of speech, adds punch and rhythm to writing. Writing dialogue in dialect also breaks grammatical and spelling conventions (note that I don’t call them rules), but it adds colour and reality. Overused, however, it becomes difficult to read.
It’s usually pretty clear to any experienced reviewer where ignoring grammatical convention works and where it doesn’t. Where it works, it improves the reading experience. Where it doesn’t, it diminishes it. Where used in ignorance, it appears clumsy; where used knowingly, it adds texture and style. It is safer for the beginning writer to stick to the conventions, but not so fanatically that they apply conventions indiscriminately and remove all personality from their writing: for example, continually using ‘is not’ where ‘isn’t’ would be more appropriate for the tone and style of the work.
The understory of shrubs, ferns, epiphytes and vines is an analogy for adverbs, adjectives, metaphors, similes, euphemisms, alliteration, allusion, personification, paradox, understatement and other stylistic devices. Well placed and used judiciously, these add to the reading experience, but overused or badly placed, no matter how grammatically correct, they detract.
A whole forest of trees planted in straight lines, without vines, understory or ferns and so on, could be an analogy for a technical writing style incorrectly applied to fiction, or for grammatically correct sentences that do not vary in their construction and are so void of embellishments that the reading experience is quite dull. It could also refer to an awesome science fiction novel where the bare language expresses the aliens’ personalities perfectly. It’s not a matter of right or wrong, but of how you use the tools available and for what effect.
Passive writing can be grammatically correct, which is why a copy editor will not ‘fix’ it, but too much of it makes the prose flat and unengaging. Sentences beginning with participial phrases (starting with words ending in ‘ing’) are grammatically correct—so long as the participial phrase is attached to an agent—but when overused, it is the mark of a hack writer. And it’s the same for beginning sentences with prepositional phrases prefixed with the word ‘as’.
It is the line editor’s job to do this kind of landscaping, and a good one is aware of the current trends in writing. Of course, you can ignore current trends, such as the preference for active over passive constructions, but you need to be aware of the point of the convention that you’re ignoring. In this case it’s that active writing is generally more immediate and engaging than the passive form.
The writer’s challenge is to use good grammar well, while feeling free to occasionally and judiciously use what strict traditionalists might consider incorrect grammar. We need to remember that grammatical conventions change as our language changes, that what is acceptable varies according to local usage, and that we shouldn’t be too picky over what may be outdated conventions; but at the same time, we should not disregard grammatical conventions for no good reason.
As with most things in life, it’s a matter of balance.
Attitude is Important
When we start out as artists of any kind, we tend to be protective of our work and highly sensitive to criticism. Though this attitude is natural in the early stages of a career in the creative arts, it is not a helpful one. It makes it harder for you to see problems with your work. Also, if your friends feel they have to pussyfoot around your ego, it will be hard for them to give you the kind of feedback you need, and you won’t hear it even if they do give it.
A defensive attitude is born of insecurity that comes from lack of knowledge and lack of self-esteem, so the more you write and self-evaluate, the more feedback and knowledge you acquire; and the more confident you become with your own skills, the more this attitude will soften. But we can speed that process up by cultivating a more mature and helpful attitude from the beginning.
We have to believe that all criticism will make our work better, and we need to understand that the point of editorial suggestion is not to criticise the work, but to improve it. Of course, we must criticise it in order to improve it, but don’t get hung up on the criticism; remember its purpose:
Criticism helps us improve the work. If no one tells us what doesn’t work, we won’t make it better. And we do want to write well, don’t we? Besides, it comes with the territory; if you publish a book, expect criticism. There’s a whole chapter on handling criticism near the end of this book.
Objectivity and detachment are the mark of a good self-editor. You need to separate yourself from your work. Your book is not you; it’s just something you’re working on. Reading and reviewing a lot of other people’s books—choose well-written ones—are good for learning to see your own work objectively.
The aim of this book is to help you write better prose. I can give you the information, but you must develop the attitude that will allow you to benefit from it.
Voice
Your voice as an author is your perspective on the world as it expresses itself through your writing. It’s the kind of things you write about, the way you write about them, and the kind of language structures and words you use because they feel right to you. Your voice is what makes your writing unique, and it often takes many books before your voice settles into something consistent.
Some authors think that paying attention to the kinds of guidelines for active/good prose that I present here will water down their voice, but in fact the opposite is true; their use strengthens your prose and so strengthens your voice. If your writing is expressed better, your voice will be expressed better also. These points do not change your words, they change how well you present them and how well readers respond to them.
Our characters, when written in an intimate point of view, also have a voice. A strong character voice is engaging in itself, and if strong enough can make some guidelines irrelevant or, at least, less relevant. (Perhaps this is why Tim Winton was able to do away with quotation marks.) However, you should never use this, or the ‘but-this-is-my-style’ argument as a defence mechanism against informed criticism. As artists, we must put aside our ego if we are ever to achieve our full potential.
A writer’s voice is what makes everything they write sound like their writing. It’s when your writing, no matter what the topic, expresses your view of the world in an identifiable style. Something written in your voice will sound ‘right’ to you when you read it aloud, so test it that way and follow your instincts. A strong voice, if it’s a highly captivating one, can carry a work that ignores fashions and stylistic recommendations.
At the same time, remember that the human mind has a tendency to see things dualistically, so don’t use the importance of establishing your voice as an excuse to ignore the advice of countless writing coaches. Used properly, they will enhance your voice, not diminish it.
In the words of some of my editing clients:
“Tahlia helped me see a pattern of passive writing in my books that I'd originally considered simply my writer's voice. With each submission, my writing style improved and my prose became more confident and powerful. My voice is stronger than it's ever been.” Welcome Cole.
“Tahlia somehow managed to keep the idea of every sentence, keep my voice but make it much better.” Dorian Zari.
Editing Necessity and Process
Anyone can write a book and, these days, anyone can publish one, but not everyone
can do it well. My experience as an Awesome Indies reviewer has shown me just how difficult it is to produce a quality self-published book without professional help, but not everyone can afford the help they need.
Writing a book is very time consuming; editing a book is the same, and anyone editing your work must be paid for their time, so professional editing, even at the cheapest rates, costs a significant amount of money—though some editors will do a 50/50 deal, a kind of learn as you go process. The unfortunate truth is that it can take a long time to make that money back, and there is no guarantee that you will ever get it back. That’s why self-publishers are reticent to engage professionals. But can you afford not to?
Though it’s true that many readers don’t notice sloppy writing and poor editing, most book bloggers and certainly the major review sites do, and in this highly competitive market, only the best authors will survive in the long term. Readers are becoming more discerning, and eventually sloppy writers will fall by the wayside. If you’re planning on making a career out of writing, you need to make sure that you’re writing well. Besides:
If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.
Isn’t it?
If you think that your story is strong enough to publish, then the least you can invest in it is the desire to do it well. Motivation inspires the actions required to achieve a desired outcome. So:
Motivation is important. Aim to write well.
Most new authors—like me when I started—find themselves inspired with an idea and start writing without any training. They only learn to write through writing, and doing workshops and courses, and reading books and reputable blogs on writing. That’s fine; first drafts should never concern themselves with technique. First drafts are all about getting that inspiration down in black and white. But to create a quality product, subsequent drafts require the application of knowledge and skill in the craft of writing.
If you don’t have the skills yourself, you employ someone who does, and even if you do have the skills yourself, you still have to employ someone to check your work.
We cannot fully edit our own work.
We simply don’t see it the way others do. We know what we’re trying to say, but our readers don’t, so someone with no prior knowledge of the story must do the final edit.
But we can self-edit as part of the writing process.
The more editing we do ourselves, the less someone else has to do, and the less it will cost us, but we need to learn the necessary skills.
The best way to learn is to pay a professional to do a comprehensive edit on your book—don’t worry about the cost, consider it education. You’re unlikely to make the money back in the short term, but it’s an investment in your career that you can’t afford not to make. Better than one editor is to engage a team of two or three editors to work on your book so you get more than one opinion—it shouldn’t cost more. When you go through the edits, look closely at them, and learn from them. If you don’t know why something has been done and the editor hasn’t told you, ask why the changes have been made. (See appendix one for how to find the right editor for you.)
If you can’t afford to hire your own tutor in the form of an editor, you’re back to courses and reading for your tuition. The best book I’ve ever come across on the topic of self-editing is Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, Second Edition: How to Edit Yourself Into Print by Renni Brown and Dave King.
However you do it, your book needs to go through the following editing process.
Structural/conceptual/developmental edit: This is the big stuff—plot, character, structure, concept, world building and so on. A manuscript appraisal or beta readers who are writers or editors can fulfil this stage of the process. There are plenty of books on writing that cover this area.
Line edit: This stage cuts the clutter and improves the prose. It’s the least understood area of writing and the form of editing most lacking in indie books. It is also the focus of this book, and once an author has the skills they can do most of this themselves. If you learn the elements of good prose, your line editing costs will be minimal.
Copy edit: corrects grammar, punctuation and spelling, and checks for consistency.
Proof-read: checks the above and picks up typos.
If you want your book to look professional and meet the standards of mainstream books, then don’t miss the line edit.
2
The Broad Sweep
In this section, I take a brief look at the ‘big picture’ aspects of fiction writing. Here I focus on the aspects that I often find lacking, or not well understood, in books presented to me for appraisal or review. Check these points first when evaluating your book at the self-editing stage.
Plot
It’s amazing how many books I see that don’t have the basics of plot. We can be so familiar with our story that we don’t see the gigantic hole staring us in the face. A novel without a plot is not a novel at all, so we must check that before anything. When you first sit back and look at your story, ask yourself the following:
Who is my protagonist (main character)? If there is more than one main character, you still need to have one major one that the reader can follow and really get to know.
Are they introduced first? Introduce them straight up, so the reader knows immediately who the story is about.
What is my protagonist’s aim in this story? What is their task, the central problem they must solve? What must they achieve, solve, fix, or discover? If your protagonist has no clear aim or challenge, you don’t have a story. Their aim tells the reader what the story is about, and it should be clear to the reader by somewhere around the 15% mark. Leave it later than 25% of the way in and you’ll likely have lost readers. They might know who the story is about, but they won’t know what it’s about until you reveal the protagonist’s task.
Who or what is preventing them from achieving their aim? This is the all important antagonist. Without this, you also have no story, because you have no tension. A story about someone searching for a package is not enough—there has to be someone or something trying to prevent them from finding that package. The antagonist can be non-human, like a fear or physical terrain, but your work will be stronger if you have a person involved because people are unpredictable.
If you have these in place, you have the basics. After that, look at the story arc. Does the tension rise, the challenges increase until the point of resolution? Does each chapter have its own tension?
Check also that each scene is actually necessary in the book. Every scene should move the story forward and should have at least two (some say three) reasons for being there. Be ruthless; if it doesn’t move the story forward, cut it. You can always incorporate parts of it into other scenes.
The best information on plot that I’ve found is from Micheal Hauge, who talks about the elements of plot as they’re used in successful screen plays. These apply equally to fiction, and his 6 Stage Plot Structure provides a good way to check that your story does have the elements that will keep a reader reading.
If you’re writing literary fiction, you may scoff at the idea of using a screenplay checklist, thinking that it isn’t relevant to your work, but if your plot is strong, experience has shown me that it will naturally fall into his stages whether you meant it to or not, so it’s a good idea to look at your plot in light of it; it may give you ideas that will take your book to another level.
Point of View
Check that the point of view (POV) you write from is consistent and that any changes between points of view don’t cause confusion. Point of view refers to the viewpoint taken by the narrator of the story. We write through their eyes.
First person—written from the perspective of one person. This POV uses the pronouns ‘me’, ‘myself’ and ‘I’, e.g. I ran down the street. He chased me. This person cannot know other people’s thoughts, emotions and motivations except as they see them reflected in the other people’s expressions and actions. They can assume, but they can�
��t think someone else’s thoughts. Neither can they know what is hiding around the corner or what is in a place they haven’t been to before. It’s perfectly acceptable to write different chapters in different characters’ voices in first person, but put the character’s name in the chapter title and make sure you make it clear in the first sentence whose POV you’re in. I wouldn’t try for more than two in this fashion though, and it’s more appropriate for young adult and romances than other genres.
Second person —addresses the reader. This POV uses the pronouns ‘you’, ‘your’ and ‘yours’. We use these three pronouns when addressing one, or more than one, person. Second person is used for e-mail messages, presentations, and business and technical writing. You may also see it used in blog posts.
Third person—written from the perspective of a third person. This POV uses the pronouns ‘he’, ‘she’ and ‘they’; eg, He ran down the street. There are two kinds of third person points of view:
Omniscient—written from the perspective of an all-knowing narrator. They know what everyone is thinking and feeling and what is hiding around the corner. Omniscient POV is not often used these days because it keeps the reader one step removed from the feelings of the characters. It is most often seen in epic fantasy. The important thing to understand when writing in omniscient POV is there should be only one voice, that of the narrator, and even though they can see the thoughts of every character, it is advisable not to try to explain many different characters’ thought processes in one scene because it quickly becomes confusing for the reader. I suggest that beginning writers avoid this point of view. It’s too remote for many modern readers, less immediate than the alternatives and hard to do well.
The Elements of Active Prose Page 2
