WRITING MISCONCEPTIONS: We Don't Want to Steal Your Book

At least once a month, I see a question on writing or editing forums that sounds roughly like this:

"I am almost ready to hire an editor for my manuscript, but I'm scared of someone stealing my work. What legal measures do you all have in place to make sure this doesn't happen?"

I'm going to generalize quite a bit here, so if you don't feel this way or haven't run into this before, please don't get indignant. I understand that every writer doesn't think like this. However . . .

I've found that if there are only writers in the group, there are always at least a few who "have heard of this happening so often" and that's why they either self-edit only, copyright their work beforehand, or have a recommended editor sign a nondisclosure agreement.

If there are a lot of editors in the group, the general response runs more along the lines of this:

• I have never considered stealing someone's work.
• I have been in this business for over twenty years and have never heard of this actually happening to anyone.
• I have never met anyone who can give me a real name of someone they know who has had this happen to them.
• The people who need the NDA the least (e.g. new/inexperienced authors) are usually the ones asking about theft, and those who have the most experience typically don't ask. Those who insist are also the people who are generally difficult to work with and don't deal well with changes or criticism.
• I already have a confidentiality clause in my contract and if that's not good enough, I don't want to work with that person. An NDA request from an indie fiction author is often a red flag that they don't understand how the publishing process works.
• I'm a writer myself and have my own story ideas to worry about, and don't have the time or energy to redevelop yours . . . OR
• I'm not a writer. I'm an editor. Editors are not "frustrated writers" who need to steal ideas to feel validated in the writing world.

I saw it pop up again just the other day as I was working on this post. This time, the author was asking about beta readers and how a writer can feel safe, sending their work off to strangers who might steal it. Yet, he was having trouble getting friends and family to beta for him. (The whole "friends and family" thing is fodder for another post. No worries, you'll read about it here.)

The general concensus among experienced writers and editors is that some authors spend a lot of time on author-only pages, and the misinformation they come away with in regard to publishing is astounding. It reminds me of the Yahoo Answers boards where a bunch of people "answer" a question with "I don't know," or "I've always thought [fill in the blank]." There are no legitimate answer-givers and no one to contradict anyone with actual facts.

Here are some facts—from real editors I interact with—that will hopefully reassure any skittish writers:

• If I stole people's work, I wouldn't be in business very long.
• Anyone who knows anything at all about copyright and intellectual property laws knows it wouldn't be worth the risk.
• No self-respecting professional would even think about it.
• Most of stolen books are stolen AFTER they're published. They are stolen by people who have never had contact with the author, and who don't care about copyright.
• Even if you are the next Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, we would still not steal your work, but we'd be very happy to make your acquaintance and be your editor. VERY happy.

Book Talk with Lynda: Special Guest Darrell Haemer

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Lynda: Hey Darrell, I found you some walkin’ music for when you’re telling the big crowds about your book! Can you believe Aretha Franklin—the Queen of Soul, Darrell!—sang about this before you were even born? She knew you’d need a theme song. [Sings loudly while beckoning Darrell to the kitchen table.] Chan-chan-chaaaaaaannnnngggggge, changin’ fools! Chan-chan-chayayayayayayannnggge, changin’ fools . . .

Darrell: [Moves his mouth but nothing comes out.]

Lynda: Whatever. I get that you might not be in a singing mood this early in the morning. Since you’re not a coffee drinker, I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so here’s a giant mug of Skittles. I’m not sure what the no-coffee people do in the mornings, but the artificial dyes alone in these babies should get you going. I made sure to give you the fifteen-ouncer—is that big enough?

Darrell: [Quietly sips his Skittles before answering.]

Lynda: I’m pretty excited to talk about your book, Changing Change, not just because I really liked it, but because it’s the first time I’ve discussed a nonfiction book on Book Talk. My love for The Chicago Manual of Style doesn’t count, of course. How does it feel to have written ONE WHOLE BOOK and released it into the wild? Or into the bookstores, anyway, which can be wild enough, depending on your introvert/extrovert balance.

Why, it's the book, of course.

Darrell: Well, first, thank you for inviting me on Book Talk; it’s a real honor! And on top of that, I’m excited to have authored the first nonfiction book on Book Talk as well! To answer your question, it feels exciting, surreal, unnerving, relieving, and proud to have written this book and released it into the wild. And I think “releasing it into the wild” is an excellent description, because for me anyway, that courage to put myself out there in the large public sphere was a tangible part of the overall challenge. It feels great though. I learned and grew so much throughout the process. I certainly have no regrets.

Lynda: It’s gotta be nerve-wracking to put so much of yourself into a book, and then allow total strangers to do what they will with it. Even when you know the content is good (and I know it’s good, because I’ve read it), there’s the statistical probability that not everyone out there is going to love it or resonate with it. But tell me, first things first: what made you decide one day, “I’m going to write a book”? Was it a single event, or a culmination of observations and changes in your own life?

Darrell and his lovely wife, Devon

Darrell: It was definitely a culmination of observations and changes in my own life. Through the process of writing this book, I realized I’ve been thinking about people’s resistance to change for over 10 years, and this is me finally putting some of that into words. However, I will also say that a single event (personal life-coaching that I received) did create a turning point for me that led me from thinking about writing a book to actually starting it.

Lynda: I love those moments when everything is suddenly clear, and the next portion of the path just opens right up. That’s when the words flow the best, I think. What do you think may surprise people who read this? Of course, I’m not going to tell you what surprised me the most until you share your thoughts, and then I’m going to do the “yeah, me too!” thing. But there was definitely something that really struck me on each read-through—a moment where I just thought, Wow. That’s absolutely true. I am friends with a genius! 

Darrell: [Laughs awkwardly while contemplating how to respond to . . . all that.] That’s a tricky one. I think this book holds a few surprises in store. Some people may be surprised at just how simple and fundamental change is once we get it down to the basics. Change has been defined as such a complicated, scary mess that many people may have no inkling that it’s one of the most basic concepts of life as we know it. On a “more practical” level, I think the relationship between change and our work, and particularly the work of leadership, might shock some people. We have definitely compartmentalized change in the work world to specific areas like entrepreneurs, change management, aggressive companies, and innovation, but change is a central part of everyone’s work. I’m sure some people won’t be able to believe their eyes when they first read that.

Lynda: YES! All that and more. I won’t give away any spoilers, but I really was inspired to . . . uh . . . change . . . the way I think about change. The way I respond to it, as well as the way I anticipate what it’s “supposed” to mean. And to remember that it’s everywhere—change is not lurking around the corner, waiting for a new boss, or a life crisis, or anything else. It just IS.

I think you’ve provided a really thorough roadmap as the book goes along. You talk about what change is, what it isn’t, what it should be, and how it’s perceived. And you give a lot of good talking points along the way. Being a thinker type of person, have you found yourself consciously pondering more often after working on the book for so many months? Or is it such a natural action for you that you don’t notice it anymore?

Darrell: I feel more conscious of change now after having written the book, and I’m still thinking and learning about change every day. I suppose in one sense, I can say yes, pondering change is natural for me, and therefore, I may not “notice” it, just like you might not notice the way you fold (or don’t fold) your socks; it’s just what you do naturally. On the other hand, analytical thought (including the topic of change) is important to me on a professional level, so I’m pretty intentional about investing time and energy into that work.

Lynda: Which is why the book packs such a wallop, in my opinion. It’s not some gimmicky Five Steps to Success, as you pointed out in the introduction. You actually take the time to make sure the reader understands why we currently view change the way we do before you show us the big and small ways we can adjust our thinking and actions.

So if there’s one message you’d like people to take away from this book (other than LISTEN TO ME, PEOPLE, BECAUSE I TOOK THE TIME TO WRITE THIS DOWN FOR YOU), what would make you say, “Ahh, this person really gets it. Thank goodness,” when all is said and done?

Darrell: If I can choose only one message I’d like people to take away, it would be that change is not “the problem.” Change is not the villain we have made it out to be. It’s all a big misunderstanding! Ha ha. I think if a person comes away truly believing that, they’ll begin to see the positive effect of that in their life. That’s my hope for everyone who reads this book.

Lynda: So essentially, change is telling us, “It’s not me, it’s you.” Way to toss things on their head, Change. Thanks a lot. 

You can find Darrell in a variety of places! Unfortunately, that’s stalking. But there are legit places to find him, so here are the ones I can tell you about:

Well, let’s see here . . .

Amazon: Buy the book here!

Facebook: Haemer Consulting

Proximity: https://proximityerie.com/

Author website: Darrell Haemer

LinkedIn: Darrell Haemer

Tell Me Your Favorites

Today's post is going to be a cheater post of sorts. For all the planning I do and all the ideas I have running around in my brain, I somehow managed to not have a post ready for today.

I've been busy with edits, which is always fun. It means I'm honing my skills, getting to know new people, and expanding my horizons. Always a good thing!

This may seem a little early—and it in no way implies that I'm actually organized about it—but I'm looking ahead to next year and what it means for this blog and my business in general. As I plan out my weeks and months and seasons of 2019, I'd like to get a grasp on what interests my readers the most.

Honestly, I have no idea how many people read this blog. A look at my analytics tells me I have hundreds of followers. I have hundreds of views per month, on a variety of posts. But I have only about a dozen regulars who comment. And I love the comments, not just because you guys are loads of fun—and the comment section can often be more interesting than the post itself—but also because they let me know who is actually reading. For all I know, half the numbers are bots.

Are my readers experienced authors who already know what I'm writing about? Am I just confirming good information and reassuring them that they're doing it right?

Are there new writers out there who have never heard some of this stuff before? Am I a helpful resource for commonly tricky topics? Jack Tyler's blog, Riding the Blimp, has a huge variety of topics (depending on the day) but his advice posts are geared toward young/new writers who need basic guidance on how to start off well. I'm certain he saves a lot of newbies some relearning time in the long run. The IWSG (Insecure Writer's Support Group) blogs about writing and resources and publishing, and it's geared toward writers old and new. Writers After Dark has a library full of resources and checklists, a writers' podcast, blog posts from award-winning authors, and—if you just need a break and some laughs to refocus—a "Wit Without Wisdom" podcast that covers all the topics on the internet no one else will touch.

What would you like to see for the upcoming months? For next year? I have a handful of authors lined up for Book Talk, and I'm excited to introduce them to you. I'm sure I'll never run out of Circular File examples to share, where strangers ask me to work for them for free. I have a few multi-post series ideas up my sleeve. But what is interesting to YOU? Is there a topic no one else has covered, or something you struggle with in your own writing? I'd love to know.

Let's have your best ideas, folks! Tell me your favorites, if you've had any, and let me know what you'd like to see more of. I'm open.

Worst Writing Advice: Never, Ever End a Sentence With a Preposition

Have you ever worked somewhere that people are unwilling to change procedures because "that's the way we've always done it"? The way things have "always" been done may have worked well for a long time, but cultural or environmental factors changed and suddenly the "always" way is no longer the best or most effective way.

Language is no different. It's forever changing, and for every person who embraces the latest version of cray, gucci, fam, or finna, there are three or more who insist that groovy and hep cat will never go out of style. But let's face it: daddy-O from the 1950s does NOT mean the same thing as Daddy in 2018. Confusing the two just might get you a lot of strange looks.

One of the non-rules that is vehemently pushed by some is "never end your sentence with a preposition." This has led to writers making themselves insane, trying to restructure sentences to avoid the things, often causing more confusion by making the sentence "proper." Where on earth did this crazy idea come from, anyway?

You can blame 17th-centry poet John Dryden, England's first official poet laureate. His personal preference of believing sentence-ending prepositions to be "not elegant"—most likely based on his love of classics and all things Latin—somehow became an Unbreakable Rule for grammar teachers everywhere. (To learn more about this literary genius who was not a very well-liked individual, this article from Atlas Obscura is an enjoyable diversion.)

Or you can blame Joshua Poole, who, according to Merriam-Webster, was an "obscure grammarian" who was "concerned with prepositions being placed 'in their naturall [sic] order,'" though he doesn't specifically mention the end of a sentence as bad placement. Poole was spouting his nonsense decades before Dryden, but Dryden had the celebrity to popularize it. Webster's short article about terminal prepositions is actually kind of snarky and fun. I like it. You can read it here if you'd like.

Here's the most important part of this whole deal, and it's truly what causes the most mystery: for about a century now—100 years!—grammar and usage guides have been telling writers that IT IS OKAY to end sentences with prepositions, and writers are still telling other writers that it's not okay. And people are believing the wrong thing.

I have found that some of the most persistent rule-pushers are those who have never actually looked up the putative rules to see whether they're valid or not, why they are or aren't, and whether the language has changed (and therefore changed their valid-or-not status). They believe and enforce things they've heard but never checked into.

I'll be honest: before I became a copyeditor, I was unaware of a good number of rules that needed to be in place, even though my grasp of grammar, spelling, and general usage was excellent. After copyediting dozens of novels over the past five-plus years and getting to know groups of editors from every walk of life, I've come to realize a few things:

1. I must always keep learning so I can deliver my best work to those who trust me with theirs.
2. The language is constantly changing, and it pays to keep up with the times.
3. When in doubt, "best practices" is a good default—some rules are more liquid than others because clarity and comprehension are the ultimate goal.
4. It's not about what we know, or think we know. It's about knowing how to use what we know. The difference between knowledge and wisdom, you might say.

I hope you're enjoying this series and perhaps learning something new. Maybe I'm simply confirming things you've already known, and it makes you feel better to have something to point to when you say I told you so!

Let me know if you have any bad writing advice peeves, or have been the recipient of some of these. I'd love to hear your stories!

Worst Writing Advice: Get Rid of ALL the Adverbs!

If you've ever gotten a group of writers or editors together, you are probably aware that there are as many opinions as there are people. Sometimes the number of opinions actually outnumbers the people present, which should defy all logic but somehow doesn't.

In the editor groups I'm part of, it's generally agreed upon that there are rules that shouldn't be broken. It's also agreed upon that there is something called "best practice" that is subject to circumstance. The thing about best practice is that it can vary from editor to editor, depending on a number of factors. The important part about best practice is that it has to make sense.

Take adverbs, for example. Please. Take them all. Take them far away. In fact, anything that ends in -ly should be banished from the language entirely.

Is that what you've been told? Stephen King even says in On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, "I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs, and I will shout it from the rooftops."

I tend to agree with Mr. King, but not for the reasons you may think. I've done posts about adverbs on this blog, including "What's So Bad About Adverbs?" in a previous Editor's Notes, so some of you are already aware of my views on this.

Here's the thing: there are many convincing reasons why you should get rid of as many adverbs as you can, and many convincing reasons why they are not, in fact, from the devil himself. The most important thing to remember is that this falls under the "advice" column and not the "nonnegotiable rules" column. So what is the best practice for adverbs?

The advice, when followed sensibly, reminds writers to get rid of the types of adverbs that create redundancy.

He shouted loudly across the field. She ran quickly to the door. He pounded forcefully on the table.

All these adverbs are redundant. Shouting is loud. Running is fast. Pounding shows force. "Quickly" might be used if the sentence read "she made her way quickly to the door" instead, but in this case, the verb used gives a different feel to the movement.

The other reason writers are so often advised to get rid of their adverbs is because they're using them to write in a lazy fashion. It's easier to say "Oh, no!" she cried despairingly than it is to describe what she looked like in her moment of despair. What about "Oh, no!" She choked out the words as her gaze darted back and forth from one family member to another, looking for a different answer than the one she'd been given.

Which one gives a visual to the reader? The first tells us how the character reacted. The second shows us. This is where the "show, don't tell" advice comes from, and is what prompts so many writers to panic if they find a sentence that tells.

DO NOT PANIC. Listen to me here, because this is important. YOU ARE ALLOWED TO TELL. You are even allowed to tell with an -ly adverb if you so choose. Sometimes you want to say "she walked quietly to the door" because she didn't creep, or tiptoe, or sneak. She simply walked quietly and that's that.

The important thing to keep in mind is that advice like "remove adverbs" becomes advice because in a lot of situations, it's sensible, removes redundancy, and helps to keep the writing interesting. But it's not a rule, and there is no need to make yourself crazy with a search & seizure of anything that ends in -ly. Adverbs are a legit part of speech that can be used to great effect in the right place at the right time.

Just like good food, fine chocolate, or necessary medications, a little is good, but that doesn't mean that a lot is necessarily better.

Editor's Notes #38: Dialogue Part 3—Those @#$!$%^ Tags

This is the third and final part in my series on dialogue. Click HERE to read Part One—Regional Overkill, and click HERE to read Part Two—Sounding Real.

Book after book has been written about them. Blog after blog has featured articles with cautionary tales. And yet . . . the overly awkward dialogue tag still manages to work its way out of the garbage can and into manuscripts the world over.

In fact, while researching for this post, I was astounded at the number of articles I found which advocated "the death of 'Said'" and "making your dialogue more interesting with anything but 'said'" and other generally bad advice.

I'm not saying there's never a good moment for a shout here and there, but the advice to young writers on various teaching blogs & forums goes directly against the advice of best-selling authors, who sometimes advise to skip tags altogether as often as possible, and more often suggest "said" or "asked" as a way of making the tag disappear.

Personally, I tend to skim over dialogue tags when I'm reading, so I like the idea of eliminating them more often than not, unless the conversation becomes confusing. Maybe it's because I read decent books that use "said" and "asked" and, as promised by those high-level authors, those two particular words become invisible after a little while.

No one wants to read the old-fashioned (and thankfully, almost never used) "he ejaculated" as a dialogue tag. The more obscure tags will pull a reader from the story as physically as tipping him out of his chair. Think of how often you've read "blustered," "queried," "wailed," "bellowed," "quipped," and the like. I don't know about you, but when I read those words, in my mind the character is instantly replaced by the Skipper from Gilligan's Island, a blusterer & bellower from way back. Or suddenly the character is Lucille Ball, wailing her trademark waaahhh.

Elimination of dialogue tags in certain spots can be effective for quick back-and-forth action. If your characters are written distinctly, their manner of speech should indicate easily enough who's talking.

Another mistake inexperienced writers often make is to use dialogue tags that don't work in the physical world:

• "I love you," she breathed. Nope. You can't breathe in while speaking. And breathing out is not the same as forcing air through your mostly closed vocal cords.
• "Don't do that," he growled. Nope again. Try growling and saying anything intelligible. You're not Batman.
• "Get over here, NOW," she hissed. Double nope. Hissing and speaking don't mix, and hissing sounds usually require the use of the letter "s." Just ask Harry Potter.
• "What do you mean, you won't?" he barked. Nooooope. Unless it's a dog literally barking, and you understand that he sounds like arf arf woof woof grrr but you can translate it in your head like a foreign language, or—oh, forget it. You get my point.

So . . . to recap these three posts neatly: don't overuse regional dialect and slang, make sure your characters sound as real as the people around you, and make those dialogue tags disappear, whether literally or figuratively.

I'd love to know: Have you ever read a truly abominable dialogue tag? Have you written one you regret (or that your editor made you regret until you removed it)?

Editor's Notes #37: Dialogue Part 2—Sounding Real

This is Part 2 in a series about dialogue. If you missed reading Part 1 where I talk about regional overkill and writing accents, feel free to check it out here.

I'm not sure how this happens, but for some writers, there is a major disconnect between conversing with people in real life and writing about people conversing. Why is writing dialogue so difficult for people who talk to others on a regular basis?

I think the major hurdle for many writers to overcome is making dialogue "proper" according to grammar rules. There's only one problem with that: dialogue rarely sounds grammatically correct.

Before you write dialogue for your characters, watch people for a while, and listen to them talk. Yes, I'm asking you to stalk a little . . . for research purposes, of course. I'm willing to bet you see at least a few of the following:

• Contractions—Most people use contractions when speaking, and yet so many writers are shy about using them for dialogue. "I do not understand" sounds a lot more stiff than "I don't understand." I did edit a novel once with one character who never used contractions (much like Data in Star Trek: The Next Generation), but that was used as a distinguishing trait for a particular purpose.
• Multiple Threads at Once—Any parent can relate to this. Or anyone who's looked at a chat window between S.K. Anthony and me. More often than not, there is more than one conversation going on at once, even if there are only two people involved. Somehow, we keep it all straight; conversation is rarely linear.
• Mishearing—Conversations happen in a variety of places, and not all of them are quiet. Is your character talking on the phone, or are children playing around those talking? Someone is bound to say, "What?" at some point. My specialty, according to my husband, is talking to him from two rooms away in our house. I get a lot of responses that sound something like, "I can hear you but I can't understand you," and "You're not talking to me, are you?"
• Getting Sidetracked/Self-Interruption—These two sort of go hand in hand. I get sidetracked all the time when I'm talking, and my kids make fun of me for it. I tend to be thinking of lots of things while talking, and this results in my sentence either changing midstream, or fading off altogether. Real conversation between me and my daughter in the car:

Me: I'm so thankful . . . [gets distracted by oncoming traffic]
Ellie: [waits a few moments, then speaks] . . . for . . .?
Me: [looks around] Four what? Where?
Ellie: Thankful. For. What. What are you thankful for? You never finished.
Me: Oh . . . I'm thankful someone's picking up your brother so I don't have to.

• Body Language/Movement—These are essential in conversations. People don't stand straight at attention, facing each other to deliver their scripted lines in a tidy order. They move, they fidget, they pace, they do the dishes or fold laundry or any number of things. Sometimes their bodies reveal more than their speech does. S.K. Anthony did a four-part series on Using Body Language in Your Novel that shows how many ways your body language can help you or give away all your secrets.
• Sentence Fragments—These differ from self-interruption or getting sidetracked, in that you don't need to be sidetracked to speak in fragments. People don't converse in the manner we all had to use in high school English tests, where we had to put our answer in the form of a full sentence. "What's for supper?" "Chicken piccata." You'll hear that as an answer far more often than "For supper, I'm making chicken piccata."
• Age is Relevant—Children don't sound like adults when they speak (though they do come up with gems every so often), so don't write the six-year-old's dialogue as if she has the insight and wisdom of a sixty-year-old. Kids are pretty simple: they want things and are happy when they get them.

These examples are a fraction of the things to consider. There are awkward silences. Sometimes when people talk, they can't always recall the facts, so their speech is peppered with uncertainty and fishing around in their brains for the right word. Someone might always say, "Ya know?" between phrases.

Something I hadn't considered when writing this post is the dialogue info dump. I'm so glad I ran across this gem in an article by Janice Hardy on NowNovel. Her number one tip on writing dialogue is "Stop using dialogue for information dumps." She points out that starting a conversation with "As you know . . ." is ridiculous. If the other person knows, then why is Person #1 repeating it all? Her advice on how to tell if you're info-dumping in dialogue or not:

When characters share information, says Janice, "If the information is for the reader's benefit, chances are you're dumping. If the information is for the character's benefit (or detriment), chances are it's fine."

In the situation above, I always think of the boss who talks to his employee while perusing through the employee's file folder. "As you know, Joe, ten years ago when you were just a rookie, you took down that laundry-laundering operation singlehandedly even though your dog's cousin was going through psychotherapy for his issues with the neighbor's cat. I know that caused your divorce, but you can't keep blaming yourself by refusing to go to the laundromat."

Don't be afraid to read your dialogue aloud after you've written it . . . to "speak it out." It may sound natural or you may come to the sudden realization that it doesn't. Picture yourself saying those words to a friend (or an enemy, depending on the dialogue). Think of those awkward homemade commercials—Hey, Susan, you're looking so fit and trim! What's your secret? Is it that new 24-hour gym, Fat2Fit, at 123 Barbell Street?—and . . . don't do that.

People don't speak perfectly. Dialogue is not structured the same as a prepared speech given to a crowd, and is more often than not grammatically incorrect. Just let it happen and don't stress the specifics.

Editor's Notes #18 : Does Your Editor Go the Extra Mile?

I'm sure each of us has been the recipient of the phrase, "It's not what you said, it's how you said it!" when we've inadvertently offended someone. I would be willing to bet there's not a person on this earth who hasn't said the right thing in the wrong way at least once. Heck, I do it all the time, so I probably skew the statistics a bit for everyone else. 

Is tact really an art form, or can any ol' schmo learn it? I do think some people are naturally more tactful than others, but I think a small helping of tact can smooth over a plethora of situations. In our family, we have the two ends of the scale, right under one roof. Lucky us, right? Hmm. Well, on one hand there's me:

PERSON: Would you like to come over on Saturday? We're having a picnic with a bunch of people you don't know and probably won't ever see again, but you're always good for a fun time.

ME: [I'm tired and do NOT want to go but can't lie about it, either.] Well, I have a lot going on this week, and Saturday's the only day I can catch up with my family, so I'll have to bow out this time. But thanks for inviting me! That was really sweet of you.

And there's my husband:

PERSON: Would you like to come over on Saturday? We're having—

HUBBY: No.

The man does have it in him to be tactful when necessary, like when I say, "How does this look?" and he replies, "Well . . . I know you really like that outfit and it doesn't look bad, but it's not the most flattering thing you own." More often than not, he prefers to be blunt. Because he never does it with the intention of being hurtful, people who know him appreciate that they'll always get an honest answer.

I associate honesty with caring. If I care about you, I'll tell you if you've hurt my feelings. I may wait a bit so as not to react in knee-jerk fashion, but I need to the relationship to be healthy and therefore won't let it fester. It may not always be the comfortable thing to say, but I'll put it out there and if the other person also cares, the issue will get fixed.

How does this relate to editing, you may ask? Let's put it into the proper context. I get paid to do the job of a copy editor. I can correct typos, fix those tricky semicolons, and correct your homophone use. I can do the bare minimum required. I sends da bill, I gets da money. Fair and square.

But what if the manuscript needs more than what my job description entails? Furthermore, what if I know what needs fixed and have suggestions on how things can be made better? Am I obligated to tell the author these things? No.

But . . .

My personal standards don't allow me to skip that step. If I care, then I am, indeed, obligated to say something. Sometimes the improvements are light, easy fixes, and other times, a whole lot of work is involved.

Perhaps this word might work more effectively here than the one you've used sounds a whole lot nicer than Do you even know what this word means? The first suggestion implies there's a better option out there and it may improve the book to use that option. The second implies that the writer is a moron who deserves to be charged double.

This is not to say it's kinder to only say easy things. There are times that hard truths need to be said, and saying them kindly doesn't mask the fact that they may still be hard to hear. If someone truly wants to improve his work, he'll at least ponder those truths and confirm them with others. If ego takes over, the truths will be stubbornly ignored, and the work may never improve. 

It's my hope that those I work with will always see my comments and suggestions as stemming from a desire to see the book at its best. I would rather tell the truth than stroke the ego any day of the week.

O = Obstinacy Never Sold Any Books

This sort of goes with yesterday’s post, although this one refers more to the pre-publication stage. The most polished and successful authors have a host of people who read their work prior to publication, whether for content and plot, or for typos, punctuation and grammar issues. These authors have learned to deal with others who sometimes ruthlessly say, “This has to be cut,” or “This makes no sense,” or even “Kill off this character; she’s doing your book no favors.”

Self-publishers, in many cases, have never had to deal with that type of criticism, no matter how constructively it’s phrased. When they show their work to someone (anyone), the typical result is praise, simply for having written a book. This is not to be confused with an informed opinion. (See letter “F” post about friends being cheerleaders only.)

A critique partner, beta reader, or editor has nothing to gain by telling the truth about bad writing, other than a clean conscience. Nobody seeks to hurt anyone’s feelings. Feelings, in fact, have nothing to do with the rules of writing. Those who cling too tightly to what they’ve written and refuse to fix errors will either sell no books (after someone reads their poorly written sample), or will sell only one book per person, with no repeat customers (after someone, having skipped the sample, reads their poorly written book).

Be open to criticism, especially if many people mention the same things in their criticism. They just might have something you can use.

M = Make the Most of Free Advice on Writers' Forums

If you ask for advice, and someone offers it to you, take it. Take it, write it down, and follow it, especially if more than one person is giving you the same advice. 

Don’t ask for advice and then ignore it. 

Don’t ask for advice and then give a list of reasons why you can’t/won’t/don’t need to follow it. 

Don’t ask for advice and tell the more experienced person he’s wrong.

I feel like Forrest Gump now, because that’s all I have to say about that.