Miscellaneous

The Anatomy of a Successful Short Story

KWhipkey 2 Comments

Short stories. Some people love them, others can’t stand them. But no one can deny they’re an entirely different creature from novels.

This week, I’ve been judging entries for the ProjectREUTSway competition held during the month of November. Buried amid 144 short stories, I started to think about what exactly makes one “successful”. I think most of you know by now that I, myself, published 3, so this is a topic that hits very close to home. It’s also one I’ve never really stopped to think about. Until now. Because, let’s face it, short stories are strange. Similar to novels and yet completely dissimilar, they require a certain — almost magic — recipe to really shine. I don’t believe in the undefinable though, (at least not when it comes to writing) so let’s see if we can’t identify the exact ingredients that make short stories such a unique form of storytelling.

Short stories are often considered a novelist’s training wheels; the idea being that someone can learn the basics of storytelling through short stories and then graduate into novels. But that’s not exactly what happens. Because, in reality, they require two different skill sets to pull off well. A short story is not a truncated novel, nor is a novel an elongated, rambling short story. Rarely can the concept for one be turned successfully into the other. And yet people still try. Why? Because short stories have been given a bad rap. Novels take all the glory, leaving short stories to rot in creative writing jail like fiction offenders. They’re looked down on as an inferior form of narrative, an eighth grade diploma to the novel’s PHD. After all, the only difference between them is length, right?

Wrong.

There are three things a successful short story must have: brevity, focus, and telling. Yes, you heard me, telling. But before you get your knickers in a bunch, let me explain further.
 

1. Brevity

 
Novelists are taught the value of brevity. But even the most refined novels still sprawl, meandering through details and settings and other things short story authors simply can’t afford. Literally every word matters in a short story. No detail is extraneous. If we mention the light blue collar on a random cat, you can bet that collar is important somehow.

The same holds true for the words themselves. Novelists are allowed to write sentences like this:

She paused, grabbing the handle of the stainless steel refrigerator and pulling it open with a subtle flick of her wrist.

(Hey, no comments on the quality. Clearly, I know that sentence is atrocious. I’m proving a point. 😉 )

That’s 21 words to say this:

She opened the refrigerator door.

Yes, that may be a bit exaggerated, but you see what I mean, I hope. When you only have maybe 5000 words of space, every letter has to serve a purpose. Successful short stories know this, and the language/storytelling is as finely honed as a scalpel. If it doesn’t somehow move the plot along, impart valuable information or absolutely have to exist, it doesn’t.
 

2. Focus

 
I’m a firm believer that every story should have a message, a reason for existing. But maybe that’s because I started out as a short story author. Whenever I come up with an idea, I identify the core message first, before the setting, characters, or even plot. For example, The Bardach is a story about identity, Spinning is about fate, and Confessions is about losing faith. Even Unmoving has a focal point. At its core, its about compassion. This type of focused narrative is one of the more notable differences between a short story and a novel.

Short stories are single-minded. Like a starving man spotting food, they keep their eyes on the prize. None of this wandering off into detours, flashbacks, subplots or other shenanigans that novels get away with. Nope, they have one message, one plot, one climatic moment that everything points to. And, interestingly enough, short stories are typically driven by an event, rather than a character. The focus is on the action, not the person doing it.

How does this translate into our recipe for success? Well, you’ll be able to feel the underlying drive in a really good short story. You’ll walk away from it remembering the message, not necessarily the characters. So make darn sure you know what you’re saying, both literally and subtextually.
 

3. Telling

 
All right. I know this is the one you were waiting for. After all the times “show, don’t tell” has been beaten into your head, you simply can’t believe I’d actually stand here and advocate telling, can you? Well, I’m not really.

See, the thing is, showing is still 100% better than telling. But, telling is allowed in a short story. Due to the limited amount of time you have to impart your narrative, there’s really no way around it. You don’t have the luxury of wasting thousands of words, or even hundreds, showing us the back-story. Nor can you illustrate anything directly outside the timeline of the main event, regardless how important it may be. So that only leaves one option — telling. You should still avoid the dreaded info-dump if you can, but slipping in the occasional line of summary, or a paragraph of back-story, won’t automatically earn you peer derision. Well, most of the time, anyway.

Successful short story authors are masters of knowing when to tell and when to show. (Which, by the way, I am not. Just wanted to clarify that in case anyone thought I was going to be cocky and throw myself on that list.) They give you just enough information — typically in the form of telling — to make their worlds/characters feel as fleshed out as a novel’s, but not so much that you really notice. They cover a lot of ground in a really short amount of time, making this the hardest skill on the list. It actually requires mastery of the other two to pull off, which is why I listed it last.

And there you have it; the anatomy of a successful short story. Learn how to control these three elements and your short fiction will stand out in a pile like little beacons. And let’s all try to stop viewing short stories as the lesser form of fiction. They’re not inferior. Just different.

The 5 Stages of Writing on a Deadline

KWhipkey Leave a comment

We’ve done a lot of serious posts lately here on Nightwolf’s Corner. Awesomely helpful, yes, but serious. So this week, I wanted to mix it up and create something humorous. But as I was busy dusting off my sarcasm, gearing up for a good old-fashioned snark-fest, I stumbled on a fortuitously timed post by one of my favorite, soon-to-be-famous authors. See, he’s a snarky son-of-a-gun too, and while I could have put my rusty skills to good use, he beat me to the punch. He even used a similar topic to my as-yet-unwritten post. So either he somehow magically hacked into my brain, or it’s that “great minds” phenomena we always hear about. Either way, his post had me ROFL-ing, LOL-ing and all those other acronyms for laughing we never say in real life. So I thought, why not share it with all of you? You’ve hung around me long enough that I’m sure you’ll appreciate the brilliance of his wit as much as I do.

Next week, I promise, original material is coming your way. I’ll be dissecting the anatomy of a short story in the literary equivalent of science class. But in the meantime, take a break from the serious and enjoy!

I present to you: Drew, master of sarcasm. Take it away, Drew!

 

Photo of Drew Hayes

 

The 5 Stages of Writing on a Deadline

By Drew Hayes

 
Writing, much like grief, moves in phases. The ideal process for artistic creation is the slow, gentle growth of an idea, watching it bloom from mere idle thoughts into a cohesive, beautiful flower. Then, of course, there’s writing on a deadline. This process is more akin to trying to steer a lawnmower while your drunken uncle fights you for the wheel and a swarm of honeybees swoops about, rightfully angry about the beer bottle your aforementioned uncle threw into their hive. (If this analogy made no sense to you, congratulations on not living in the country.) Point being, writing on a deadline is a crazy, often senseless process that feels as though you’re being swarmed by painful distractions. Though, to be fair, in a perfect analogy you’d be the drunk uncle. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
 

Stage 1: Stupidity, a.k.a., I Can Totally Handle This

 
This is a beautiful stage, a wonderful place that you’ll find yourself at time and again. You’ve found a project that you’re suited for and been accepted into the position. You have zero fear you can handle this, because the magic of repression has given you the power to block out what your last project was like. You do everything right in this phase; you make an outline, schedule time specifically dedicated to work on this project, and even make a step-by-step checklist. You are fearless. You’ve got this shit down cold.

In fact, you’ve got it down so cold, you’re not even stressing about it. Until that window you set up to work on the project gets chomped away by angrier, more demanding tasks that are further along in the process and soon, all too soon, you’ve hit crunch time. Now you really need to write. So you finally enforce that window and sit down to truly punch out stuff on the keyboard.
 

Stage 2: Holy Shit, a.k.a., What Was I Thinking?

 
Nothing. Not one idea. Come on, you can do this. You had a billion ideas when you took on the project. There has to be one left in your brain. Just one. You’ll do anything. Come on. Focus. Foooocus. Don’t look at the spot on the wall. It’s not mold. Because you live in a dry climate and mold doesn’t look like finger smudges, that’s how I know. And now you’re cleaning the “mold” even though that’s totally not what it was. Feel better? Oh, hey, idea! No, not about the project, but related to the project. Remember that outline you did? Maybe there are some ideas in that.

Huh . . . this is wordy, detailed, and totally useless. Look at Point #4: draw out deeper meaning of previous subject. They’re all like that. Everything hinges on something else, and there’s no start point. Okay, deep breaths. At least you’ve got a plan if you do ever think of a starting point. Look, there’s an old truth to writing that if you’re stuck, just write anyway. Just put words down and sooner or later something cohesive will form. Type gibberish if you must, just type something.
 

Stage 3: Desperation, a.k.a., Shit’s ‘Bout To Get Real

 
Well, it’s the last day before the project is due, and you’ve written 30,000 words of gibberish. I’ll be honest, I’m impressed with the dedication, though I had hoped eventually real words might come out. Still, let’s not give up hope yet. Maybe you can still pull something off. I mean, you’ve done this before. Go look at notes from old projects. Perhaps the secret to breaking through your block lies in there.

Wow . . . these are . . . wow. I’m around ninety percent sure having this combination of words written down is a felony, along with a serious cry for help. Also, a good half of that isn’t English. Scratch that, it isn’t even language, at least nothing a healthy mind could identify as such. No, don’t throw it out, there are children in the world who could stumble across this. Burn it. Cleanse it with fire and hope there can be forgiveness in your next life. Only when that’s done can we continue to scour for the key to unlocking inspiration.

Okay, those pages are gone, though it took them a curiously long time to burn, and the whole house smells like smoke and regret. After a bit more digging, you’ve found different sets of notes from your last project. Let’s take a gander and see what you’ve got.

Cursing.

Cursing.

Teardrop stains.

Enthusiastic cursing.

A cocktail recipe.

Eh, what the hell, seems like as good a time as any to progress to the next step.
 

Step 4: Booze, a.k.a., Hang On Just A Minute . . . I Know What I’m Talking . . . Here Shush . . . Just Let Me Say One More Thing And I Will — Zzzzzzz

 
If it was good enough for Hemingway, it’s good enough for you. Furiously hurling vodka down your throat like there’s a gasoline fire in your belly and you have no concept of how putting out a fire works, you take an alcoholic wrecking ball to your sober consciousness. Soon the ideas begin to flow. Unfortunately, they aren’t ideas directly related to the project you’re working on. No, texting your ex is a bad idea; they don’t want to hear from you. I don’t care how unhappy you think they looked in their wedding photo on Facebook, they don’t want to hear from — aaaand you’re texting anyway.

Several drinks later, you’ve worked through nearly all the alcohol stocked in your meager bar, save for the break-in-case-of-emergency last resort: Tequila. You know you shouldn’t do it, but by Faulkner you’ve come this far, and, at this point, you’d rather go down in flames than burn away gently. You guzzle straight from the bottle, downing the well-grade liquor in less time than it took for the under-paid clerk to slap it on the sale shelf. This is going to be bad.

The next few hours pass in a blur. Only snippets and highlights will remain once the alcohol has run its course:

You remember trying to order a pizza on the phone, only for the clerk to consistently reiterate that you have dialed a dry-cleaner. You are not fooled by his lies.

You know you uploaded a clip to YouTube. Unfortunately, you have no memory of what was on it, the name it was under, or even the account you used to post it. You will spend the next six months trying to find it and/or hoping you cannot be identified by the footage. That hope will eventually be dashed.

You fill more pages with the cursed writing, the arcane script that made those previous pages so difficult to burn. This time you hide them so that your sober-self cannot unmake your hard work. There can be no more interruptions, not with the rising so near.

You sit down at your computer, staring at the monitor that mocks your literary impotence with an unsullied white screen. You stick your tongue out at it. This is the last memory of the night.
 

Stage 5: Completion, a.k.a., Who The What Now?

 
As you rise slowly from the keyboard, you immediately become aware of three things. Firstly, you have a headache that would send lesser drinkers to their graves. Secondly, you slept with your face on the keyboard and will wear this waffle iron-esque mark of shame for several hours. Lastly, and most importantly, your project is complete. The crisp, neatly edited words stare back at you from the monitor, all mockery quieted. You read through them just to be sure, but everything is germane to the topic, well-worded, and grammatically correct.

You send it off to the client without asking too many questions. Better not to know, you assure yourself. Better not to ask what exactly those pages you wrote signify. Better not to wonder just what it is you might have traded away in a fit of drunken desperation.

Nope, instead you’re off to get a shower and a well-deserved bagel. Maybe you’ll even go see if there are any new projects you might be a good fit for. After all, with this beast done, you’ve got a lot of free time, and you really should try and stay productive.

***

For more of Drew’s deadpan hilarity, please check out his author page and follow him on Twitter.
Also, keep an eye out for his side-splitting debut novel, The Utterly Uninteresting & Unadventurous Tales of Fred, The Vampire Accountant — available Summer 2014!!!

I’d also like to send a special thanks and shout-out to V of Veronica Park’s Space for letting me syndicate this post from her fantastic When Writers Go Wrong Series. She’s got a bunch more, so if you enjoyed this one, head on over and check out the others. They’ll be running through the end of December. 🙂

From the Editor’s Desk: Echoes of Balance by Cally Ryanne

KWhipkey Leave a comment

As an editor, (both freelance and under REUTS Publications), I have the wonderful opportunity to see amazing novels during their developmental phase. And I wanted to find a way to share them with all of you as they became available. (I also wanted to find a way to help support the authors that trusted me with their manuscripts.) So think of these posts as my own personal book recommendations, straight from the editor’s desk.

This week, I’m excited to bring you the first title releasing under the REUTS Publications name:
 

Echoes of Balance

by Cally Ryanne

 

Echoes of Balance by Cally Ryanne

 

For Chloe Moraine, fighting wild bears — and the occasional vampire — is a better pastime than the tediousness of keeping the universe in balance. But balancing is the family business. It comes with being one of the last in the ancient line of Naimei.

So when the impending return of the Original Demons threatens global harmony, Chloe is obligated to help. Even when that means the dull-as-dirt task of following a human girl who “might be involved, maybe,” instead of the thrilling hunt she craves.

With their powerful magic and ancient Ways, Chloe’s family is unconcerned, certain they’ll quickly fix the imbalance while she’s preoccupied with human high school. But when the Ways start to fail, the threat becomes more serious, and the only person that seems to know anything is a debonair vampire with an offer to help.

If Chloe chooses to trust him, and the darker side of the supernatural he represents, she’ll betray her family and risk losing them, and herself, in the process. But if he’s right, he may just be their only chance to stop the return of the Originals and save the world.

Maybe high school won’t be so boring after all.

 
Echoes of Balance is the first in The Ways Trilogy. Featuring a cast of sarcastic, quick-witted characters, and an interesting twist on the paranormal creatures we all know and love, this YA, urban fantasy debut is fast-paced and fun. It introduces us to Chloe, one the few remaining Naimei (a new race of paranormal creature unique to Cally’s world) who passes her time as a vampire hunter. At least, until a grievous injury to her arm leaves her sidelined and her cousin shows up with sinister news. The Ways (an instrument the Naimei use to predict world events and maintain the balance of the universe) are severely unbalanced, pointing to the catastrophic return of demons that had been banished from the world centuries ago. And they (the Naimei) need Chloe’s help to stop it.

However, what they have in mind isn’t quite what Chloe expects, and instead of being sent on a high-intensity mission, she finds herself in high school, charged with following a human girl who may be involved. Frustrated at being benched yet again, Chloe decides to find her own information on the scenario, leading her to Sam — a young vampire who’s more puppy-dog than anything else; Josef — the debonair vampire who speaks in riddles and mystery; and Ducante — a wise-cracking bar owner and bona fide demon. All while navigating the social landmines of high school.

Cally’s style is smooth, with a simplicity and elegance that allows readers to become engrossed in Chloe’s world, and her storytelling is deceptively straightforward. Like Chloe, readers will find themselves unraveling an intricate web of plot lines and clues, until finally, everything falls into place. Do Chloe and the Naimei figure it out in time to stop the impending demons’ return? You’ll have to read and find out. 😉

And, because today is Black Friday, REUTS has decided to honor the shopping tradition by offering the chance to pre-order Echoes of Balance. The official release date is December 17th, but you can reserve your copy now through the REUTS Publications website. This is exclusive to the REUTS site, so don’t miss out! (Echoes will be available via the regular online channels after 12/17/13). Head on over to the book’s page, check out the first chapter for free and reserve your copy!

You can also learn more about the series and Cally by visiting her website: Ducante Originals.

Cally, it’s been a pleasure working with you. Thank you for letting me be a part of your book’s journey. I wish you all the success it deserves and look forward to the next installment! 🙂

Designing a Book Cover: Groundwork

KWhipkey 8 Comments

This week marks a first for Nightwolf’s Corner– a guest post. I’ve teamed up with Ashley Ruggirello, Creative Director and Founder of REUTS Publications, to bring you a series about cover design. (And by “teamed up,” I really mean asked permission to syndicate her work. 😉 ) I know nothing about cover design, so why not defer to an expert? Because that’s what she is. Not only is she the creative genius behind all of REUTS, she’s also the owner of freelance design company, Cardboard Monet. I’ve had the privilege of watching Ashley’s brilliant talent in action, so I can vouch that her expertise will lead to some helpful insights for you and I both.

And if my word that you’ll learn something valuable isn’t enough, how about this to entice you? She’s using my nemesis WIP, Unmoving, as the example cover. That’s right, by the end of the series, Unmoving will have a real life cover! And you get to watch it happen. No, that doesn’t mean I finally managed to finish the darn thing. But I can promise you an exciting (well, it’s exciting for me, and maybe the 3 fans I have) announcement regarding it at the end of the series. 😉

So stick around. I can guarantee you won’t regret it.

Take it away, Ashley!
 

Chapter 1: Groundwork

 

By Ashley Ruggirello

 
It’s common to hear the phrase, “You can’t judge a book by its cover,” although it’s often referring to much more than just a book sitting on a bookshelf. In the aesthetic (and competitive) world of publishing and readership, though, books are judged by their covers. I’d even venture to say you have less than five seconds to wow a potential reader with your cover art– talk about pressure! That’s why you see publishing companies and designers working harder and harder to push the envelope, create something new, and really grab their audience. Cover art is such an important element to your story, and boy is it a daunting task to take on! So I’ve taken it upon myself (as a so called “expert”– thanks Kisa ;)) to step up and pen a Cover Art series. Expect this to be the first chapter (of many) breaking down the process– start-to-finish– in creating a print-ready book cover design. And I’ll do my best to post a new chapter every week.

Different from the editorial phase, cover art, unfortunately, requires a certain set of programs to work within, especially if you’re planning on working professionally in the industry. These programs are part of the Adobe Creative Cloud, including Photoshop, Illustrator and InDesign. Now, all three of these are quite expensive to purchase without the prospect of frequent use, but there are online resources I’ve already touched on in a previous blog post: Cover Design On A Budget.

Before we begin the nitty-gritty designing, there are a few key pieces of information needed to set the groundwork. First and foremost, you need a book to design for, preferably one that’s nearing completion. Luckily, we have just that! Throughout this series, we’ll be using Kisa’s WIP, Unmoving, as the guinea pig for our designing adventures. Although this is a good start, we usually need more than just a title to begin. These are the elements I request before beginning any Cover Art project:
 

The Checklist

 

  • Tagline / Sub-Title
  • Full Book Synopsis or the Full Manuscript
  • The Author’s Ideal Book Cover Art
  • Dimensions of the Printed Book

 

Tagline / Sub-Title

 
Although this element isn’t mandatory, I’ll share some examples of popular novels using a tagline to aid in their cover art.
 

Screen Shot 2013-09-20 at 10.07.29 PM
 

DIVERGENT, by Veronica Roth: “One choice can transform you.”
 

Screen Shot 2013-09-20 at 10.11.26 PM
 

ACROSS THE UNIVERSE, by Beth Revis: “What does it take to survive aboard a spaceship fueled by lies?”
 
Screen Shot 2013-09-20 at 10.13.13 PM
 
JESSICA’S GUIDE TO DATING ON THE DARK SIDE, by Beth Fantaskley: “The undead can really screw up your senior year.”
 
Consider the tagline added real estate to explain your plot (or tease your readers) when designing. In the case of Divergent, the title itself doesn’t explain much. Throw in the tagline “One choice can transform you,” and we’re given a peak inside the story. There’s some sort of conflict surrounding a decision; a decision serious enough to define the decision maker. This immediately adds prospective tension to the plot, in addition to generating interest in learning what decision holds so much weight on the main character’s life and future? And how does it all play out?

Books are judged (and quickly) by their covers, so the more you can explain in a quick glance, the better odds you have of attracting a reader.
 

The Author’s Ideal

 
Although not always feasible, the author’s ideal book cover is a great place to start when brainstorming what the cover art should be. If you’re designing for yourself, this part is easy. You know your story best, and how you’d like to represent it. If you’re designing for another author, on the other hand, stop stressing out trying to figure out what’s in the author’s head, and just ask them! Sometimes it may be difficult to put to words, but if your author is able to visualize in their mind’s eye what type of cover they’d classify as ideal, you’re off to a great start. It may be difficult to make that ideal into a reality (e.g. finding the right stock photos could prove to be a challenge), but from this starting point you can begin collaboration and brainstorm how to meld the author’s vision with your creative input and own interpretation of the story.

Always remember: the best design is born out of collaboration. If you’re able to bounce ideas off of more than one individual, including the author, you’ll always come out with a stronger, more powerful design. So always feel free to seek input from friends, family, your team (in my case, the REUTS Acquisitions Team), etc. Trust me, you’ll appreciate the additional eyes, and create a better cover.
 

Dimensions

 
This one is tricky to get right off the bat. The standard book size REUTS uses is 5.5″ x 8.5″, however, it can range from 5″ x 7″ to 6″ x 9″, and a few stragglers larger or smaller than those. If you follow the 5.5″ x 8.5″ standard, you know the size to work within for the front and back cover, just not the spine. Unfortunately, it takes a fully type-set book to determine the full cover dimensions. The final number of pages will affect how thick or thin the spin ends up being. (Obviously, this step can be disregarded if you’re focusing solely on an eBook cover design.) Since we’re lacking information at the start of a new project, I usually like to nail down the front cover art, bringing those elements/themes into the back cover, and then add the spine width once it’s determined.

Many times, a printer will provide a design template to work with once the dimensions are finalized. In this case, it’s always safe to initially comp a larger cover size, and edit down, rather than try to increase the size later. Increasing anything that isn’t a vector from its original size in Photoshop will cause distortion and pixilation.

Always remember: Include a bleed in your working cover-art file. It varies between printers, but you can be safe adding .25″ – .5″ around your artwork to account for any cutting idiosyncrasies when the book is in production.

Next week we’ll begin brainstorming for Kisa’s story, Unmoving. Stay tuned!

Self-Editing Tips From an Editor

KWhipkey 25 Comments

It’s no secret that writers loathe the editing process. With its tedious attention to grammar rules you tried to forget as soon as you graduated, repetitive methodologies that make anyone’s brain numb, and general snail’s pace, it’s no surprise that it pales in comparison to the joy of creating. But it’s a necessary evil. One that a strange few of us actually enjoy and decided to make a profession, creating the editor/writer bond we know so well. That doesn’t exonerate you from having to edit, though.

Surprisingly, I’ve actually seen the statement (more than once) that writers don’t need to worry about things like grammar and spelling. That’s the editor’s job; they’ll clean it up. (Every time someone says this, another editing muse disintegrates into ash from the horror.) No, actually, that’s not our job. It’s yours. Yes, editors (especially freelance editors) are more forgiving of the occasional typo and drunk-sounding sentence than your average reader, but that doesn’t mean they want to sludge through something that isn’t even as legible as your 4th grade history paper. And if your 4th grade teacher made you proofread, what makes you think an editor standing between you and publication, between you and being paid for your work, wouldn’t expect the same thing?

Exactly. They do.

But that doesn’t mean editing has to be as painful as a self-lobotomy. In fact, I’ve given tips to get you through the revision process before. (Divorce Your Words; Save Your Story) It’s a topic that bears repeating though, so today, I’m going to give you another set of helpful insights, not from the perspective of a writer (like that previous post was) but from that of an editor.

(Hold on a moment while I swap my writer hat for my editor one . . . Okay. Ready.)

1. Step Back

 

No, I’m not bastardizing “step off” so don’t get your panties in a bunch. Step back is a concept from the art world. In fact, it’s one of the first things you learn at art school. (Yes, you learn stuff at art school. Shocking, I know.) The idea is that an artist can’t clearly see the entirety of their work when they’re hunched over it and it’s about 6 inches from their face, so they have to “step back” to change their perspective and see their work the way the world does. Now it makes sense, huh?

The first step in self-editing is finding a way to create that shift in perspective, to see the work you’ve poured your heart into for the past year in a different way. We’re too close to it during the creation phase, viewing it like an overprotective mother turning a blind eye to their kid’s flaws. You have to break that connection before you can even begin to analyze your work objectively.  You need to step back.

The easiest way to do that is simply to shove your manuscript in a drawer for a few days and avoid it like a note from a debt collector trying to repo your car. I recommend a bare minimum of 48 hours, but a week to a month would be better. That allows the warm, fuzzy glow of creation to fade away and stark reality to set in. If you can’t afford to take the time off, then simply changing the mode of viewing can help. Download it onto an eReader or print it out. Even just move to the Starbucks two blocks away instead of the one next to your house. The change of venue will automatically clear your perspective of any lingering rosy tint and allow you to see more clearly.

2. Ignore the Details

 
Editing is synonymous with comma hunting, spell-check, and word choice, right? Wrong. So many writers (and more than a few editors) dive right into the detail work, thinking all they have to do is clean up the grammar, completely skipping over a very crucial step — structural editing. Bypassing this is like trying to repair a broken bone with makeup. All you end up with is a mangled limb painted like a hooker. Offensive, maybe, but it gets the point across, no?

At this stage in the process, no one cares if you spelled “definitely” wrong, or have a bazillion commas in all the wrong places. Ignore all that. Look deeper, at the story itself. If the structure isn’t working, there’s no point in polishing. That lump of coal’s not turning into a diamond. The only way to fix it is to become a story surgeon, diagnosing and repairing things that are otherwise fatal to your chances of publication. How? Like this:

Take that fresh perspective you earned in step 1 and read through your manuscript from an aerial view, glossing over all the details. You’ll fix them later. Right now, you want to focus on things like pacing, character motivations, world development, scene transitions and narrative sequence. What’s the message of your book? Is that coming through clearly? Do the characters feel like fully fleshed-out people, or cardboard cut-outs? Are the scenes in the right order or does shuffling a few around improve the plot’s progression? These are the kinds of questions you should be asking. Trust your instincts as a reader. We’ve all been programmed to know when a story works and when it doesn’t. And don’t be afraid to make a giant mess; you can stitch it all back together afterward.

3. Murder Your Habit Words

 
Habit words are insidious, riddling your manuscript like a cancer, so before you send your book off to the cosmetic surgeon (aka, your editor) for that much-needed facelift, you need to eradicate them. (Don’t ask why my favorite analogy for editing is medical. I don’t know.) Don’t feel bad, everyone has them. They’re like comfort food, something we turn to without even realizing. My habit words are “was”  and “so.” I’m sure I have others, but that’s all I’m admitting to. 😉

Other common ones are “that,” “had,” and “actually.” It can also be a phrase like “for a moment” or “roll his/her/their eyes.” Pretty much anything you find repeating over and over again qualifies as a habit word. Ideally, you should try to avoid repeating words on the same page or even the same chapter! The English vocabulary is huge; use it to your advantage. But without being pretentious about it. Rarely will you find a word that doesn’t have at least one synonym. So before you go to the next step, arm that delete button with a hefty dose of radiation and go hunting for your habit words. You can’t kill them all, but you’ll be surprised at how even just this small tweak can drastically improve the smoothness of your prose.

4. Rhythm’s in the Details

 
Now you get to go through your manuscript with a fine-toothed comb, copyediting line by line until it’s as perfect as you can make it on your own. This includes things like fixing rocky sentences, condensing wordy parts, simplifying convoluted phrasing, fixing grammar mistakes and just general tweaking for rhythm and smoothness.  This is what people picture when they hear “editing.” It’s the tedious part that will make you want to poke your own eyes out just so you never have to read that chapter ever again. It’s repetitive and monotonous, but it’s like sending your book to the gym. Each pass will trim a little more of the fat until your manuscript is a lean, efficient piece of storytelling. At which point you send it to an editor and the whole process starts over.

That’s right. I just outlined what a professional editor does. (With the exception of #1.)

So, why, if these are all steps you can do yourself, do editors exist? Because they provide objectivity. Even a self-editing master won’t be able to catch everything. Writers can never truly disconnect from their work, can never view it with complete objectivity, because they know the story and what they were trying to convey. An editor provides clarity, finding things that are confusing or missing just like a reader would. But since they’re also literary doctors, they’ll help you fix it, saving you from the embarrassing backlash of reader criticism and scorn. Besides, two heads are better than one. Right?