Return to Revision

Not long ago I turned in the first draft of my 2011 release, called Springtime of the Spirit. It’s the third and final book in my Great War series (the second book, Whisper on the Wind—see cover to the right—is all finished and will release this September). Last week I had the “revision phone call” from my editor, which is part of our normal procedure. Here’s how it goes: I write the book and turn it in by the deadline and then a few weeks later my editor/s and I have a chat about the project as a whole.

I’d love to say I’m living a writer’s dream—that whenever I turn in a manuscript it’s automatically received with an enthusiastic thumbs up, ready for the relatively uncomplicated line-edit (where more minor things are addressed like word choice, eliminating any repetitions, that sort of thing). Then a quick and final copyedit (where a different editor looks at it this time, checking facts, consistency, timeline, and more minute details). After that it goes off to the printer. That actually did happen with Whisper on the Wind, but that’s because that story idea was with me long before I ever turned it in, and I had plenty of time for polishing before my editor ever saw it.

In reality, most often authors first receive a “substantive edit” before going to line edits. That’s where I’m at with Springtime, and what my editor and I discussed on the phone last week. It’s a conversation I actually look forward to. Perhaps that’s because of my editor, who always begins the conversation by telling me specific things she likes. I don’t care how many books an author has written, we always love having an editor tell us what works. Once a book is released to the public, it’s easy to share the compliments with the editorial staff because by then it really is more of a group effort. But at this stage, when only the author’s hand is in it (and a critique partner if she’s blessed to have one) it feels very much like a single-handed effort. So to have an editor tell me it’s working is, first of all, a huge relief.

Remember the saying about writing being 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration? There’s a lot of truth to that, starting in the earliest stages. But this phase of merging our original vision with what will best serve the story and appeal to the widest possible audience is where most of the work, at least for me, is found. This book is set at the end of the First World War, in Germany. It was quite a challenge! Lots of angst in the general setting, plenty of conflict in every day life for each of my German characters. But because of the political history that’s so intrinsic to the era, there were a lot of societal factions to sort through. Things that my characters would have been far more familiar with than me and my 21st century American readers!

So my job right now is to clarify a few things related to the political aspect of the time, which will heighten some of the personal stakes my characters face. Those are the kinds of suggestions that come with a substantive edit: more general than specific, and therefore a little more time consuming on the author’s part.

At the end of the conversation my editor invariably asks how I feel about the things we discussed. This is my sixth book with this same editor and even when, at least at first, the substantive edit seems “substantial,” each time I’ve come away thinking she was right. The story will be better served because of her insight.

So that’s something to keep in mind. Not only flexibility as the creator of a project, but being able to see it from another point of view. Editors are editors for a reason, and while I’ve heard a few horror stories about insurmountable creative differences, everyone has the same goal—to make the story the best it can be. It’s usually doable to mesh the vision, even for changes that must be woven in throughout the story.

And most of the time the substantial edit process is fun. Knowing the characters and the basic premise are working is a huge high for any writer. I suppose in some ways this is the “job” phase, because we’re not creating new scenes—just polishing ones that area already there. But I love it, whether it’s because part of my work has already been affirmed or because it’s like tinkering with familiar toys, I don’t know. I just know when we get to work on something we have passion for, to work on something God wired us to do, we’re really blessed.

So I’m off to immerse myself back into Germany, pre Weimar days . . .