The Art of Editing

One of the wonderful things about my job is the opportunity I have to work with authors in a variety of genres. From novels to memoirs to academic texts, each style of writing presents a different challenge, and although I wouldn’t like to pick a favourite, I do find a definite pleasure in editing poetry.

There is something in the rhythm and precision of a poem that really appeals to me, both as a reader and an editor. At its best, poetry presents a new or skewed vision of the world we know, inviting us to encounter the familiar in wondrous ways. It does this partly by playing with language – exploring it, inciting it and ultimately enlivening it – and that’s what makes it so intriguing to edit.

Regardless of the material before me, my aim as an editor is always to ensure the text is clear, consistent and correct. Crucial to my work is an ability to see what needs to be altered and to identify what could be improved. I am confident in my understanding of how language works and will happily make changes to grammar, punctuation and spelling in most styles of writing. I will also rephrase sentences as necessary, although the writer may decide whether to accept these revisions or not.

When it comes to poetry, however, my approach is different. In a poem, the usual rules of form and even meaning may be set aside. Perhaps more so than other kinds of writing, poetry is idiosyncratic. It can be very personal as well, and it is for these reasons that I edit it with a greater sense of deference.

These observations could relate to the tone or imagery of the poem. They may question the position of a line break or highlight a shift in cadence. I could offer you my perception of the metaphor you are using, or encourage you to be braver and take your poem even further. Such reflections are made as comments on your document, and any changes are usually accompanied by an explanation.

With all my clients, I am happy to discuss my corrections and suggestions. I hold strongly to the value of shared respect between author and editor. It is a reciprocal process, a dance of response; yet here again, the sensibility differs a little when I work with a poet.

Editing poetry involves being guided more by instinct. I consider my impressions and then share them with the poet, who can in turn affirm or adjust the poem. It is a distinct way of thinking and of engaging with a text, and it fascinates me.

Perhaps if I were a poet myself, I could express the sense of it more cogently. For now, I will continue to search for the words to convey that allure, and I’ll welcome the chance to do more of this kind of editing.

Have you ever had your poetry edited? What was the experience like for you? What matters to you when an editor engages with your poems?

First, you have to live.

Before you can hatch an plot, be struck by inspiration or pursue that yearning to share your ideas with the world, you need to spend some time being alive. You have to discover who you are, how you think, and how language and vision and imagination work. All of that takes time. At some point, you need to decide what form your insight or the story you dreamed up might take, and whether or not you are prepared to create it.

Then, you need to write.

Chances are you don’t need me to tell you that can take a while too, but just in case you were dwelling in any doubt or delusion, it’s true. Writing takes time. So do redrafting, refining and revising, not to mention revisiting the original premise, changing direction completely, realising that you’ve been writing a whole other thing entirely, giving it up, thinking it over, coming back to it later, trying it from a different angle, cutting it in half or doubling its size, turning it inside down and upside out, and writing, writing, writing, until at last you can hear it singing.

And that’s not even counting the procrastinating.

It takes time.

Finally, it’s done. But it isn’t, of course, because that’s when (if you’re smart) you get it edited, and yes, that takes time too. It may take you a while to find the right editor for your words, and then you might need to wait until you can work with that person. The editing itself needs time and possibly more of it than you first expect.

You might think you are ready to go, but your editor could suggest there is structural work to be done. Sometimes more than one round of editing is required. Whole chapters may be missing or unnecessary. Ideas might need more explanation, examples or illustrations.

It takes time to sort all of that out and it has to happen before any further editing can occur. And you’re the author, don’t forget. That means you need to check through and approve or refuse every suggestion and correction your editor makes. This can take a while and could even lead to more revisions requiring more editing which also needs approval from you.

It all takes time.

At last, you have your final draft and you’re ready to publish. Guess what? Time. You’ll be needing more of it. Whether you opt for print publication, create an ebook or have a deadline to meet, your document has to be formatted. Other experts may need to contribute their skills. There’s cover art and typesetting to be arranged, and don’t forget that proofreading is a separate step in the process.

Sure, each of these stages can be rushed, but why do that if you care? And if you don’t care, why do them at all?

It’s at this point you might expect me to spin you that line about how everything worthwhile takes time. That may be true in a lot of cases, but some of the most amazing and enduring things that have ever happened did so in only a few days or in a minute or in an instant. Clichés are not always correct.

There are authors out there who are disciplined and prolific. They write quickly and confidently and very productively. You can also find editors who will finish jobs with aplomb in squeakily tight timelines. Even publishing itself is becoming an ever more expedient process, but sometimes, sometimes it’s not quite as quick as you might like.

And some good things do take time.

I’ll happily tell you that I’m not the fastest editor out there, but I’m thorough and I care. Maybe more than most people, I know that time cannot be vanquished. It happens at its own pace and being in the flow of it is easier than constantly wrestling with it.

By the time your work reaches me, you are usually beyond eager to get it out there and into the hands of its readers. I understand that and I want to help. But sometimes it takes time.

How about we agree to give your words the respect they deserve? Let’s recognise that time is one factor at play, but quality matters more to me than speed and I hope it does to you as well. It may be that your journey as a writer from first word to finished product takes longer than you expect, but that’s ok.

While that time continues to flow, we can all keep on living, learning and writing some more.

What expectations or experience do you have of the time it takes to write, edit and publish? Which bits go fast for you and which ones slow? What advice would you give to others about cultivating patience when creating a book or other significant document?

Over the last few months, I have published a number of articles about different kinds of editing and how they may be helpful to you. I am now collating this information into a quick guide so you can get a better sense of what sort of editing your manuscript requires.

While other editors may use alternate names or add further distinctions, I consider editing in three main ways. These are developmental editing, structural editing and copyediting.

Developmental editing

What is it?

This is the kind of editing that takes place before a manuscript is fully formed. There’s an idea out there, hovering with a sense of possibility, but any sense of structure or direction is missing. Sometimes even the precise nature of the topic is yet to fully emerge.

Who needs it?

Writers who have something important to say but need help figuring out exactly what that is and what shape it will take.

How does it work?

This is a shared journey which usually begins when you approach an editor with your idea and ask for help to develop it. Discussions will take place, along with reviews of any writing you have already done. From these exchanges, you will be given options for how you might expand, refine or rework your idea. It’s a dialogic process, and an important part of developmental editing involves supporting you as you refine your concept and write the content.

How long will it take?

Hard to say… It depends on how clear the ideas are in your mind and how readily you respond to your editor’s suggestions. This can be a slow process, but the guidance, insight and assurance you receive at this stage can be invaluable.

How much does it cost?

By its nature, developmental editing is evolutionary. This makes it highly unlikely that a fixed price can be set. The cost will vary according to the depth of work necessary and the time it takes to craft the , but it is almost always worth it.

Structural editing

What is it?

Also known as substantive (or sometimes substantial) editing, this is the miraculous process by which a mostly complete but somewhat jumbled document is transformed into a meaningful manuscript.

Who needs it?

Structural editing is helpful for writers who have a extensive document but have lost their sense of how it all holds together.

How does it work?

Your editor will start by reading through the entire manuscript, taking note of themes, images, recurring ideas, repetition, omissions, shifts in tone, and so on. Based on this reading, you will be offered a range of options around which the manuscript can be arranged. Once the organising principle has been decided, the work of shifting text into place begins.

How long will it take?

The time required for structural editing is determined by the length of your manuscript and the state of its confusion. For longer documents, allow a few weeks to a month.

How much does it cost?

As with developmental editing, it is difficult to predict the amount of work needed to complete a full structural edit. Provision of a total job cost is not likely, but your editor should keep you informed of progress along the way.

Copyediting

What is it?

This is the deliciously finicky bit of the editing adventure which involves checking that the text is clear, consistent, complete and correct. It entails all that fun (to editors, anyway) technical stuff about precisely where that comma belongs and whether or not your sentence actually means what you think it does. This is the last stage of editing before a document is prepared for publication and it is often followed by proofreading.

Who needs it?

When your manuscript is in a healthy state and needs correction rather than major restructuring, you are ready to have it carefully copyedited.

How does it work?

Many editors today copyedit using the track changes feature in Microsoft Word. This allows us to work on your document onscreen and it enables you to see all the corrections and suggestions we make. As the author, it is your responsibility to accept or reject these changes. Editors may also make comments on your document using track changes. These can alert you to issues with the text or raise questions for you to address prior to publishing your masterpiece.

How long will it take?

The time required for copyediting depends on the length of the manuscript and the extent of correction required. Again, allow a couple of weeks for long documents.

How much does it cost?

Copyediting is generally charged per word or by hour. Your editor should be able to give you an upfront estimate for the work. Some will also send you a sample edit so you can see whether the approach taken suits what you are seeking.

And that’s it.

This has been your fast and friendly guide to three kinds of editing. Hopefully you now understand a little more about each, but please do not feel that you need to know exactly what you require when you first contact an editor.

As long as you have a vision for your manuscript and are willing to work towards achieving it, your editor will assist you in whatever way is best.

Any questions? Please feel free to ask me anything about editing. It is a topic that fascinates me and I’m happy to share what I know.

I have been thinking about metaphors to help explain structural editing. As the name suggests, this kind of editing aims to create a strong framework for your ideas. Poised between developmental editing and copyediting, its focus is on arranging the text in a way that is logistically and aesthetically pleasing.

The first image that came to my mind to describe structural editing was the construction of a building. Certainly, there are some similarities between the two. Each begins with a wealth of raw material that must be assembled into an effective composition. Books, like buildings, need to be well made, with a design that reflects their purpose. They require solid foundations and easy navigation, and are at best functional, accessible and inviting. Ideally, both will also look and feel good when you’re in them.

I was enjoying this little analogy when a friend mentioned the idea of a bridge. My imagination engaged in the implications of this image and I found that it too works well as a metaphor for structural editing.

It is true that I don’t have the first clue about how to build bridges. What I can do, however, is structure a document so the ideas within it interlink to form an effective piece of textual architecture. This could, of course, be thought of as a building. But the bit that fits so neatly with the image of a bridge is the way it connects two points on a journey.

Structural editing, as noted above, takes place between developmental editing and copyediting. More significantly, however, it is the process through which a chaotic collection of words transforms into a coherent manuscript.

It also provides the firm footing upon which your readers may traverse your writing from beginning to end. Or, if you like, it is what lets them cross easily from one place to other.

The practice of structural editing occurs when a text is still flexible and may be crafted into interesting new shapes. As with all forms of editing, it starts with attentive reading. There is a technique of seeking, almost sensing, patterns, recurrences and themes. Particular attention is paid to repetition, which may reveal the importance of a certain concept, or could highlight areas to consolidate, condense or cut.

The skill lies in finding the best way, among many alternatives, to guide readers to their destination.

When I edit this way, I often find one particular form or organising principle will emerge most strongly. Even so, I still see other possibilities and encourage myself to come up with more. I present all of these options to my client, who has the final responsibility for deciding what shape the work will take.

Then, I make a plan. I assemble the elements. I begin to build.

What may have started out as a provisional arrangement of materials can, through careful engineering, become a thing of grace. Picture the elegance of a suspension bridge, the sturdiness of a truss bridge, or the simple dignity of an arch bridge hewn from stone or wood.

All of these allow travellers to venture from a place they know to somewhere as yet undiscovered.

Your words, artfully structured, can do the same.

Have you ever had a document structurally edited? What was the experience like? And, just because I’m wondering, do you have a favourite type of bridge?

The first thing you need to know is that copyediting and proofreading are not the same thing. While both focus on making your document as clear, consistent and free of errors as is humanly possible, they do so in different ways.

The second thing you should know is that, done correctly, copyediting and proofreading happen at separate stages of the publication process. Technically, proofreading only occurs after a document has been copyedited and when it is fully formatted. It is the final step, prior to publication, when all the tiny details get checked.

In practice, however, the boundaries between copyediting and proofreading are becoming increasingly muddy. A certain amount of proofreading is done these days when a manuscript is still in the form of a word processing document. This is not necessarily a problem, but nor is it quite what the practice of proofreading has traditionally been. That’s the third thing you should know.

In my view, the distinction between copyediting and proofreading is found less in the format of the document and more in the approach to it. The simplest way to explain it is this:

As your copyeditor, I want your words to be as effective and poetic as possible. That means I will correct any mistakes I find in your grammar and punctuation, but I will also advise you about the tone and style of your writing. I will point out areas where your reader might get distracted or confused and will offer you options for addressing these.

My way of working is to include you in this process. I respect your views and acknowledge that you are free to ignore my suggestions if you choose (even though they are made with the best interests of you and your readers in mind.)

Proofreaders, in contrast, often have a more distant relationship with writers. Some who work in the publishing industry have no direct contact with the authors of the words they examine so scrupulously. Their task is not to ponder the writer’s wishes or intentions, nor to propose methods for embellishing the expression. Instead, the expertise of the proofreader is in identifying and correcting those inconspicuous but still existent errors and inconsistencies that can mar an otherwise exceptional document.

With that in mind, it is advisable to accept any alterations made to your text by your proofreader. This is about technicalities, not taste. If a change has been made at the proofreading stage, it is because it was necessary.

The fourth thing you should know about copyediting and proofreading is that I am happy to do either, according to your needs. Sometimes you might not know which is required and that’s ok. I can help you with this and provide examples if appropriate.

Finally, it is worthwhile knowing who can benefit from a proofreader’s keen eye. Such fine folk include:

• bloggers who are seeking to maintain a professional image by having someone check their posts for errors before they are published
• entrepreneurs and website owners who send out email newsletters
• creators of ebooks or online courses (because it is disappointing to find mistakes in material you’ve paid good money for)
• artists who are applying for grants or access to exhibition spaces
• fiction writers who have had their manuscripts copyedited and formatted prior to publication
• non-fiction writers who have lots of headings, references, captions, figures and so on in their text
• researchers and postgraduate students who are submitting articles for publication in journals
• writers of all kinds whose attention to detail is less than ideal.

Really, anyone who has written a document that is subject to the scrutiny of others could consider asking a proofreader to peruse their work. (And just so you know, that includes editors who write too.)

There are, of course, many deeper mysteries to explore in the realms of copyediting and proofreading, and some of these will be covered in future articles. For now, I hope this brief guide has given you some idea of a few important features of these two related but different arts.

How do you understand the distinctions between copyediting and proofreading? What more would you like to know about the way each one works?