Editing the Editor!

Ruthy here, introducing my talented friend, marketing communications expert and editor Michael Ehret... I've known Mike for years, and he's one of the 'good guys'... you know the type, he says what he means, he's got a good heart, he's true blue and he knows writing... and loves it! I'm delighted to have him with us today, talking about how an editor reacts to being edited! Take it away, Mike!

Wait, What Do You Mean You Have “A Few Edits”?

As editors, we’ve all said these words:

·         Every writer needs a good editor.

·         Nothing is so good it can’t be edited and made better.

·         It just needs a little polish.

And—I’ll stake my reputation on this—those words are true. Well, they’re true for everyone else. Not me. I’ve been writing a long time and I’ve edited other’s words. I know what I’m doing. My words are gold. My mother even said so.

(Quit snickering!)

Recently, I had the opportunity to contribute a novella to “Coming Home: A Tiny House Collection.” Seven of us participated and it was fun! My story, “Big Love,” introduces two people involved in building and tiny houses who come together in a surprising way:

Berly Charles remembers the days before her father was a successful business tycoon in Indianapolis, Ind. Growing up a razor’s edge from homelessness planted a tiny desire for home in her heart that she now, as the owner of Le Petite Maison, LLC, fills for others by building their tiny home ideals.

Nathan “Rafe” Rafferty is a writer for a nationally recognized architecture journal who is used to calling his own shots. When he gets assigned to cover a new trend—tiny houses—the idea makes him furious. Could it be because it reminds him of when he and his mother had to live in a lean-to shack under a railroad trestle in Indianapolis?

Homelessness expanded her world and constricted his. Now she needs his help, but he only remembers the pain. Can they find big love in a tiny house?

So that’s the story I wrote. I’m not sure exactly how this happened. I must have had an off day—or an off 120 days—while writing because when I received my manuscript back from the book’s editor (and one of the co-authors), Linda Yezak, she had edits.

No, really. The book was FULL of them.

She called me “dash happy” and questioned my parentage! Apparently, writing—like—William Shatner talks—is—a little—too much—style. And I guess I sort of prefer the British spellings of certain words to the less colourful American spellings. So kill me.

But then it got worse.

Linda Yezak—bless her heart!—said I wrote a cliché. Or, maybe, several of them. Land o’ Goshen! That woman couldn’t see the forest for the trees. She left no stone unturned trying to ferret out clichés.

In a nutshell, at the end of the day, even though she was bold as brass, Linda was right because two wrongs don’t make a right and two (or more) clichés don’t make great sentences. (Like these, eh?)

So, yes, I guess it’s true. Every writer (even me) needs a good editor. Here are just a few of the other things Linda suggested I fix in “Big Love.”

Logistical and repetitive word problems

I’m a seat-of-the-pants writer. As you know, that means I just sort of spit it out and then go back and fix it later. Well, I don’t always catch everything. Here’s a general clean up example from Linda’s edit.

As he peered over his phone, pretending to pay no attention, Rafe saw Holden in his peripheral vision, stroking stroke the stubble he’d been nursing into a beard for six months, his patented ‘far-away-deep-in-thought’ squinty-eyed look he thought made him seem thoughtfulcontemplative, playing out on his increasingly mashable face.

Starting at the top, I forgot a comma at the beginning of that non-essential phrase—“pretending to pay no attention”—that needed to be there. That phrase is non-essential from the sense of the sentence. I could have just eliminated it. But it is a characterization phrase. In other words, it helps the reader get a sense of who Rafe is and how he works in the world.

The logistical problem she points out is obvious—or should have been, lol—but then there’s also the triple use of the word thought within one very long confusing sentence. I must have written this on the day I was suffering from the rockin’ pneumonia and the boogie-woogie flu.

Here’s how I fixed it for the final:

As he peered over his phone, pretending to pay no attention, Rafe saw Holden stroke the stubble he’d been nursing into a beard for six months. This he had to see. His editor’s patented far-away-deep-in-thought look he thought made him seem contemplative, was now playing out on the man’s increasingly mashable face.

Notice what Linda didn’t change: “increasingly mashable face.” Mashable is not a real world, but again, it’s character development for Rafe. He carries around a lot of anger from his past, so this is a close-to-the-surface emotion. And he is a culture sponge, in this case Adam West’s “Batman.”

Since it is a novella, the relationship had to develop quickly, but believably. A good editor walks the line between suggesting improvements and making improvements. In this example, Linda suggested that she thought I could do a better job showing Rafe’s evolving feelings for Berly. She was right. Here’s the original:

He opened his file for another review of his research and was gripped again by her eyes in the IBJ portrait piece—as well as the playfulness of the pose. The photographer had shot her as Rosie the Riveter, only she had a hammer in her hands. It was cute. Very cute.

And then, from the final manuscript:

He opened his file for another review of his research and saw Timberly’s portrait again. Those eyes. So deep and sparkling with playfulness. The photographer had shot her as Rosie the Riveter, only she had a hammer in her hands. It was cute. And charming. 

In the first—“was gripped again by her eyes”—is narrative telling. The second—“Those eyes. So deep and sparkling with playfulness”—is deeper POV showing. The reader sees Berly’s eyes from Rafe’s point of view. I’m not telling you he was gripped, I’m showing you.

Linda, like any fine editor, took my story, in my voice, and showed me ways to improve it—make it stronger. That is the benefit of a great editor. And that is why we all need them.

For the contest today, we’re giving away one print book and three e-books of Coming Home: A Tiny House Collection, which contains Michael Ehret’s novella, “Big Love. To enter, answer the following question in the comments. Be sure to leave an email address so we can contact you.

Question: Could you live in a tiny home? Why or why not? Or, if you prefer, share your best advice for learning how to show and not tell. What tips and techniques have worked for you?

Michael Ehret has accepted God's invitation to write with Him and is also a freelance editor at WritingOnTheFineLine.com. In addition, he's worked as editor-in-chief of the ACFW Journal magazine for the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), was editor-in-chief of the Christian Writers Guild, and he pays the bills as a marketing communications writer. Michael sharpened his writing and editing skills as a reporter for The Indianapolis News and The Indianapolis Star.

He’s been married for 36 years to Deb and they have three children, one dog (a miniature Schnauzer named Baxter), and a granddog. Since he writes fiction by the seat of his pants, who knows what’s next?