When should you start working with an editor?

One of the questions that comes up almost every time as I talk with prospective clients is when they should start working with an editor. At what point in the writing process is it most appropriate to contract with an editor? When is it too early and merely a waste of time?

The short answer: 

You should start working with an editor when you need help.

The longer answer:

"Need help" is defined as: when you're stuck on your writing project (aka "writer's block") or don't have enough distance from it to do what needs to be done next. Or when you have no idea what needs to be done next.

The longest answer:

ROW80 check-in 6

Question: is it possible that part of my writing process involves long-ish periods of not working on my works-in-progress as a way of letting the ideas ripen in my subconscious? Or is that just a convenient excuse for procrastination?

This post is a day late and several dollars short. Despite my best intentions I did not work on my stories this week.

I did, however, finish writing this poem.

And I wrote an article about Carrie Padian (@carriepadian) for VoiceCatcher that should be going up around March 18. FYI: Carrie is a Portland-based poet and creative non-fiction writer whose blog Sweet Nugget should really be in everyone's RSS feed.

And I worked on some creative non-fiction of my own. My favorite line from this week: "The magic of the human heart is that there's room for more than one person at a time to fill it completely."

And of course I've been working on my second novel(la) under my pseudonym as well.

And today I got some exciting news about a project that I'll need to work into my ROW80 goals for this round: my Twitter-friend Josh Hewitt (@the_j_hewitt) has invited me to write a speculative fiction poem for a series he'll be posting on his blog in April. The details of this collaborative project are a secret for the time being, but I'm so excited to participate!

Which reminds me. I was also invited by Twitter-friend Aliaa El-Nashar (@Aliaa_ElNashar) to participate in a chain story. I hadn't heard of this idea before, but it turns out it's a bit like an exquisite corpse, just on a grander scale: each writer writes a chapter of a novel whose theme is agreed upon ahead of time. I've agreed to participate on the condition that my turn to write comes after this round of ROW80, just because I already have enough on my plate through the end of March. Evidently we're going to be writing a crime novel. Should be interesting. I just love the idea of all this collaboration.


Okay, so when I look at all this I don't feel so bad about slacking on the speculative fiction stories. I mean, it's not like I've just been sitting around drinking margaritas and staring off into space. Though that sounds kind of nice, too.

ROW80 check-in 5

My goal for A Round of Words in 80 Days is to end up with five short stories that are ready to be submitted for publication. (Originally they were all going to be speculative fiction stories between 3,000 and 5,000 words, but I have since opened my mind to other possibilities.)

My progress so far:

• I have continued working on a story called "The Usual," which I began writing before this round of ROW80. This is a speculative fiction story about cultural norms and what happens when a young woman involuntarily breaks an unwritten law.
• I have also continued working on another story I started writing before this round of ROW80. This one is tentatively titled "Zombie" and is about a woman's experience post-zombie apocalypse as she learns what she must be willing to sacrifice in order to survive.
• I've written about 3/4 of a draft of a new story called "The Choice," in which a woman is chosen at random to decide the fate of her people in the face of a growing divide between a government and its citizens.
• And finally, I've written 3/4 of a draft of that new magical realism story that has me all excited, the one I'm not going to tell you anything about because I think it's pretty original and I have very high hopes for it. (I will probably look back on this statement and cringe with embarrassment, but so be it. Right now, it's my truth.)

I still need one more story to get to five, obviously.

Initially I planned to revise a story called "Conformity" that I originally wrote as a graduate student, but I can't find it anywhere, either in digital or physical form. It was quite a blow when I realized that I'd lost it. Especially since my plan for that story was to have two versions, the second version the same as the first except for one important detail that changes the whole tone, and I'd planned to begin and end my collection of short stories with those two versions of "Conformity." I haven't decided whether to try to rewrite it from memory. It's a daunting prospect, especially since it took a while to get some of the dialogue *just right* and I no longer remember how it went.

One of the really interesting things I've noticed about myself while working on the other stories is that my intentions for them appear to be a little bit beyond my current writing skill level. I know what I want them to do, what feel I want them to have, what messages I want to get across. And in each case there's at least one aspect to the story that I'm not exactly sure how to pull off.

But rather than be discouraged by that, I'm excited by it. I see it as proof that I'm developing as a writer, and it gives me an idea of what's possible in the future, even if I don't end up being able to pull it off now.

What is developmental editing?

The topic of developmental editing--what it is, why anyone in their right mind would pay for it, whether it's necessary--has come up several times in the last week or so in conversations I've had with various people, including a potential client, a small business coach, a fellow writer/editor, and a marketing specialist I met at a friend's birthday gathering.

In a July 2012 post about editing and proofreading I gave a very brief rundown of the three types of editing I do: developmental, line, and copy. But the conversations over this last week have led me to want to provide a more detailed description of developmental editing here.

ROW80 check-in 3/4

Last week I couldn't bear to post a check-in because I had once again failed to produce anything. Why is it so easy to be motivated to read and respond to other people's writing and yet so difficult to produce writing of my own? Perhaps because the writer has the more difficult job. Not that editing doesn't have its own skill set--it does--but there's much less of my ego involved in editing. And I already think of myself as a proficient editor. I don't know that I'll ever think of myself as a proficient writer.

But enough psychology. Today I am happy to be able to report that I actually wrote something this week: a "shitty first draft" (as Anne Lamott calls it in Bird by Bird) of that magical realism short story I got the idea for when I was sick. I'm feeling rather guarded about it because I like the premise so much and think it might be somewhat original, so no excerpts for you this week.

Also this week I emailed the partial drafts of the other three speculative fiction stories I've been working on to a colleague of mine. ("Partial drafts" = missing a beginning, middle, and/or ending.) I think I needed some professional feedback in order to revive my interest in them. I've been rather sick of them. Or maybe just frustrated with myself. At any rate, this colleague was luckily willing to do a trade, so I got some good feedback on one of my stories, and she promised to read the other two soon. And after talking with her I was able to do some more work on the story she'd read. Hooray!

We're already entering Week 5 of this Round of Words in 80 Days. According to my original plan I should be done with first drafts of all five stories by the end of this week, but I don't see that happening. I'd have to finish three more drafts and write a whole new one. But I'd be happy if I had two more completed drafts by the end of this week. I'm *so close* on some of them, but trying to write the missing pieces feels like trying to squeeze water out of a rock.