Tag Archives: Bobbie Christmas

It’s Time.

Who's Ready to Edit? 2

Last time, I posted an update about where I was with The Water Bearers, my second novel. At that time, I was taking a much-needed break from the now-completed first draft before starting the editing process. As I told one writer friend earlier this week, it’s so that I can return to it, when I’m ready to edit, with fresh eyes and a ruthless hand.

I think you can tell from the photo that now, after my two-month break, I’m ready to go (or to kill; not sure which, sometimes).

I had originally intended to start the process around when the King (Stephen) advised to do so, say, six weeks or so after completion. However, today is the last day of my writing class, and it also gives me roughly two weeks until the end of the year, so it feels like this is the perfect time to get this baby all wrapped up.

How exactly does my editing process work?

First, I’ll do a straight read-through from a hard copy, making no edits whatsoever. I’ll just to try to approach it as a reader would, something that’s harder for a writer than you might imagine. I’ll jot some notes in the margin, maybe highlight a couple of things, and, because I work bass-ackwards compared to some writers, I’ll create a working outline from what I’ve done to make sure that all of the elements are plotted out and make sense. Some writers do that last part first, but that’s not how I roll. The one thing that’s true of all writers is that your process has to work for you, not for anyone else.

manuscriptOnce I’ve finished the read-through (which I’m doing on a print copy), then I’ll sit down and play a little Search-and-Destroy–uh, I mean, Search and Refine– the more “mechanical” part of the process. I use the Search feature on my computer to ferret out repetitive words, annoying phrases, etc. It’s a dandy little technique I first heard about from my editor on  Widow Woman and developed further using the book Write In Style: Using Your Word Processor and Other Techniques to Improve Your Writing by Bobbie Christmas. (Haven’t read this book yet? Get it. It’s an unbelievably helpful way to eliminate wordiness, annoying tics, etc.)

Once I get past those phases, I’ll do one to two more substantive passes and really zero in on fleshing out characters, tightening up the plot, focusing on tension and engagement–all those things that I hope will keep readers turning the page.

Once everything else is done, I’ll do a final spelling and grammar check via my computer. (Is that really necessary, you might ask? Believe me, if you’re asking, it’s necessary. Does a computerized spell check catch everything? No. Don’t computer spell checks sometimes misinterpret the writer’s intent and suggest the wrong word? Of course–they’re computers, not people; you don’t just blindly accept every change they recommend. But every once in a while, the computer will catch something your eye has missed, even after all those passes, so yes, you’ve got the tool, use it. )

Then, and only then, I will finally consider it ready for beta readers (the next phase in the process). I will be looking for volunteers, so be ready. I promise, there are far fewer sharp objects involved in that phase.

2012: A Recap

58600_hourglassIt’s officially December now, so it’s safe to start playing Christmas music (although please, not the depressing variety), putting up decorations, and indulging in the traditional, alternately depressing-yet-satisfying hindsight-is-20/20 look back over the year about to end (and maybe the world, if you believe those Mayans).

So grab that mug of eggnog, cozy up in front of the fireplace, and enjoy a look back with me over 2012: It’s been a hell of a ride.

[The following post first appeared January 5, 2012.]

I confess: I’m a technophobe.

Or, perhaps more accurately, I’m techno-resistant, which frustrates my geek husband to no end, poor thing. Up until roughly three years ago, I’d never sent a text, I still did all of my writing longhand on legal pads, and I had no idea how to use a GPS. All right, I still don’t know how to use a GPS.

I used to resist out of fear that I would irreparably harm whatever gadget happened to be at hand by pressing the wrong button, because, as we all know, modern technology always comes with a well-camouflaged but easily-activated self-destruct button.

Now, however, I think I resist because even though, on a rational level, I know there are faster, easier (and cooler) ways to accomplish my goals through the skillful use of technology, spending the time to learn those skills really irritates the crap out of me. And then, by the time I’ve learned them, the technology has already morphed into yet another version, which I then have to learn all over again. I don’t want my phone to do 800 different things; I just want it to make my call, for cryin’ out loud.

Yeah. Not a geek. But I know I need to catch up with the rest of the 21st century, so I am trying, even if I’m ridiculously slow to adopt, which brings me to the subject of today’s post, my recent introduction to the Search and Refine feature in Word as an editing tool.

All right, all of you out there laughing at how backwards I am: off with you! I’m speaking to my people now, those who still fight the persistent fear that they can make their laptops explode just by pressing Ctrl + Alt + Delete one too many times. (You can’t, by the way. I checked it out.)

As you may remember from my last post, I recently started working with an editor, hereafter referred to as “C.” Just like “Q.” and “M.” in the Bond movies, she’s fun to work with but she uses fewer pyrotechnics. C. is helping me prepare my manuscript for publication this year. When I first met with her last spring, she recommended I read the book Write in Style, by Bobbie Christmas. I gamely purchased a copy, read the subtitle, “Using Your Word Processor and Other Techniques to Improve Your Writing,” and promptly buried the book under a stack of files on my desk. Word processor. Harumph.

The book remained buried until I sent C. my first 5 chapters. She inquired if I had used the Search and Replace feature on my manuscript yet, (referred to in said book). Of course I hadn’t; that would’ve involved learning what those other buttons on “the ribbon” do. [Who names these things, anyway?]

C., who probably had me pegged from the start as a techno-resistant arse, appealed to my practical side instead. She suggested that if I used that technique before having her make her first editing pass, it would save me money, since I wouldn’t be paying her to make all those refinements. Moved by her gesture of self-sacrifice, I plugged my nose and decided to give it a shot.

C. provided me with a list of overly used words that she regularly sees in her work, and I set out to search the first 5 chapters of my manuscript for those awful offenders. I was skeptical (after all, my work is perfect as is), but as I searched, and discovered, offender after offender, my attitude soon changed.

I found instance after instance of those pesky little words—words like “only,” “just,” and, the mother of all offenders with 224 appearances, “so.” In all fairness to me, however, the search did turn up “so” not only when it stood alone, but also when it appeared within other words and expressions, like “masochist,” “sophist,” and “son of a b—.”

My reactions as I searched and replaced veered from “Holy cow, what was I thinking when I wrote that?” to “What was I drinking then?” and, on at least one occasion, “Clearly, I wasn’t drinking enough!”

When I finally finished the process (and keep in mind, this was just the first 5 chapters), I was broken, a shell of my smug former self—and a true convert. When I read back over those 5 chapters, the difference shocked me. It wasn’t just better; it was radically, drastically better, and I felt like an idiot for not having used the feature sooner.

Thank you, Peanut Gallery, for not providing confirmation.

My point to all of this?  I have learned that technology is not the enemy.

Wait. No, I still kind of think that.

How about…the enemy and I have called a truce? My fellow techno-resistant lambs, if you don’t yet use the Search and Refine feature in your writing and editing, it’s a superb tool for showing you where every little weakness in your work is hiding. It can’t fix them for you, you still have to put in that work yourself, but it pinpoints them in a fast, easy way that makes the revision process so efficient, you wonder (as with most technology), how you survived before you discovered it.

So thanks, C., for the suggestion—I’m setting off on my next Search and Refine mission now with the next 5 chapters, and feeling like a Lean, Mean, Writing Machine.

Oh, wait—you’re right, I did gain some weight over the holiday. Guess I’ll have to settle for Mean Writing Machine now instead.

Search and Refine: My New BFF

I confess: I’m a technophobe.

Or, perhaps more accurately, I’m techno-resistant, which frustrates my geek husband to no end, poor thing. Up until roughly three years ago, I’d never sent a text, I still did all of my writing longhand on legal pads, and I had no idea how to use a GPS. All right, I still don’t know how to use a GPS.

I used to resist out of fear that I would irreparably harm whatever gadget happened to be at hand by pressing the wrong button, because, as we all know, modern technology always comes with a well-camouflaged but easily-activated self-destruct button.

Now, however, I think I resist because even though, on a rational level, I know there are faster, easier (and cooler) ways to accomplish my goals through the skillful use of technology, spending the time to learn those skills really irritates the crap out of me. And then, by the time I’ve learned them, the technology has already morphed into yet another version, which I then have to learn all over again. I don’t want my phone to do 800 different things; I just want it to make my call, for cryin’ out loud.

Yeah. Not a geek. But I know I need to catch up with the rest of the 21st century, so I am trying, even if I’m ridiculously slow to adopt, which brings me to the subject of today’s post, my recent introduction to the Search and Refine feature in Word as an editing tool.

All right, all of you out there laughing at how backwards I am: off with you! I’m speaking to my people now, those who still fight the persistent fear that they can make their laptops explode just by pressing Ctrl + Alt + Delete one too many times. (You can’t, by the way. I checked it out.)

As you may remember from my last post, I recently started working with an editor, hereafter referred to as “C.” Just like “Q.” and “M.” in the Bond movies, she’s fun to work with but she uses fewer pyrotechnics. C. is helping me prepare my manuscript for publication this year. When I first met with her last spring, she recommended I read the book Write in Style, by Bobbie Christmas. I gamely purchased a copy, read the subtitle, “Using Your Word Processor and Other Techniques to Improve Your Writing,” and promptly buried the book under a stack of files on my desk. Word processor. Harumph.

The book remained buried until I sent C. my first 5 chapters. She inquired if I had used the Search and Replace feature on my manuscript yet, (referred to in said book). Of course I hadn’t; that would’ve involved learning what those other buttons on “the ribbon” do. [Who names these things, anyway?]

C., who probably had me pegged from the start as a techno-resistant arse, appealed to my practical side instead. She suggested that if I used that technique before having her make her first editing pass, it would save me money, since I wouldn’t be paying her to make all those refinements. Moved by her gesture of self-sacrifice, I plugged my nose and decided to give it a shot.

C. provided me with a list of overly used words that she regularly sees in her work, and I set out to search the first 5 chapters of my manuscript for those awful offenders. I was skeptical (after all, my work is perfect as is), but as I searched, and discovered, offender after offender, my attitude soon changed.

I found instance after instance of those pesky little words—words like “only,” “just,” and, the mother of all offenders with 224 appearances, “so.” In all fairness to me, however, the search did turn up “so” not only when it stood alone, but also when it appeared within other words and expressions, like “masochist,” “sophist,” and “son of a b—.”

My reactions as I searched and replaced veered from “Holy cow, what was I thinking when I wrote that?” to “What was I drinking then?” and, on at least one occasion, “Clearly, I wasn’t drinking enough!”

When I finally finished the process (and keep in mind, this was just the first 5 chapters), I was broken, a shell of my smug former self—and a true convert. When I read back over those 5 chapters, the difference shocked me. It wasn’t just better; it was radically, drastically better, and I felt like an idiot for not having used the feature sooner.

Thank you, Peanut Gallery, for not providing confirmation.

My point to all of this?  I have learned that technology is not the enemy.

Wait. No, I still kind of think that.

How about…the enemy and I have called a truce? My fellow techno-resistant lambs, if you don’t yet use the Search and Refine feature in your writing and editing, it’s a superb tool for showing you where every little weakness in your work is hiding. It can’t fix them for you, you still have to put in that work yourself, but it pinpoints them in a fast, easy way that makes the revision process so efficient, you wonder (as with most technology), how you survived before you discovered it.

So thanks, C., for the suggestion—I’m setting off on my next Search and Refine mission now with the next 5 chapters, and feeling like a Lean, Mean, Writing Machine.

Oh, wait—you’re right, I did gain some weight over the holiday. Guess I’ll have to settle for Mean Writing Machine now instead.