Category Archives: Developmental Editing

Strike a Pose

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Earlier this month, I came as close as I ever will to being on America’s Next Top Model (though the current season does feature a preternaturally youthful forty-two-year-old). I had found myself in need of a self-portrait for—wait for it—the back cover of my upcoming self-published compilation of blog posts! I include “self-published” as a sort of qualifier or apology; I haven’t sought or attracted the attention of a Big Five trade house or even a small press. Still, I have enjoyed applying my developmental editing skills, honed for others, to my own book.

Judy Blume

Writer Judy Blume, chin on hand

I needed a photo in which I looked professional, or at least authorly (perhaps resting my chin on my hand or smoking a pipe). Anyone who has tried to capture my visage knows I am intensely camera-shy. When pictures are being taken, I try to slip in behind someone else—which is pretty easy, since I’m five-foot-three and have a small head. I knew I would require help with hair, makeup, and clothing, and I found a photographer who provided that—and had excellent Yelp reviews! And she turned out to be the daughter of a woman I have known for many years.

Hidden in a group photo

Here’s where a simple head shot morphed into a production worthy of reality TV. I mentioned to the photographer that in addition to wanting a “personal branding” image, I was about to turn fifty—so the session could be an opportunity to document, visually, the end of my first half-century (before, I assume, everything really turns to s#!t). As the date of the shoot approached, I hit upon the idea that maybe I could even use a photo of myself—gasp!—on the book’s front cover. To ramp up the crazy, each of five wardrobe changes would represent a different aspect of the book (more on that in a future post).

Turning fifty is in my comfort zone. Being the subject (object?) of a photo shoot is not. To get through it, I think I entered a fugue state, or one of my other personalities stepped forward. As if through a filter of tulle, I recall snippets from that afternoon. I remember panicking a bit when I saw how heavily my face was made up; my typical regimen involves relatively minimal goop. I wore only two of the ensembles I brought; the other looks came from the photographer’s collection. I donned as many dresses in three hours as I had in the previous three years. One of the gowns I got into was an experimental garment made of book pages.

The creative shutterbug who directed me so patiently specializes in making women feel beautiful, showing them how their loved ones see them. Apparently, our loved ones have Photoshop vision.

I’ll view my retouched likeness tomorrow, when I return to the studio to meet with the photographer!

Should Authors Also Be Writers?

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Last year, I received an assignment to edit a self-help book. The goal was to prepare the manuscript for acceptance by the publisher that had contracted with the first-time author to write it—although the expectation was that it would come back for further revision. The job included both developmental editing and copyediting. Developmental editing involves modifying a book’s structure and content; copyediting consists of fixing punctuation, spelling, grammar, and style. I introduced extensive changes at both levels, making the organization more reader-friendly and rewriting virtually every sentence.

After the manuscript was submitted to the publisher, I awaited word of its reception. Five months later, having heard nothing, I checked Amazon: the book would be coming out in November 2014. I took satisfaction in the fact that the manuscript had apparently been accepted. I checked back this month and was able to preview parts of the book (which had received all five-star reviews); I was gratified to see that my changes were intact, from the table of contents to the section heads to the text. Not to overinflate my role, but I made the author seem like a capable writer. Ironically, she never knew my name or that I, as a ghost editor, even existed.

Jane AustenThe situation brought to mind some news that emerged in 2010 about Jane Austen—that the words of the revered novelist did not, in fact, come “finished from her pen,” as her brother Henry asserted in 1818. As NPR reported, she “may have simply had a very good editor.” According to Austen authority Kathryn Sutherland, of Oxford University, “The English that she is known for is this polished, printed Johnsonian prose. And it’s not there in the manuscript.” (“Johnsonian” refers to the literary style of distinguished English writer and critic Samuel Johnson, best known for his influential Dictionary of the English Language.)

If Austen was a “sloppy writer” whose books were “heavily edited for publication,” does that mean authors—even beloved ones—don’t have to know how to write well? And it’s the editor’s job, if necessary, to create that illusion? Consider the portrayals of writers in film and literature. They typically experience writer’s block or some other setback related to their writing, become inspired by the struggles in their lives, and triumphantly complete their manuscript. As they type “THE END,” do we think, “Now it’s off to a good editor!”? Rather, we think it’s the end of the story.

We don’t really want to know how the sausage is made.