Copyedits
I got to go through my first set of copyedits a few weeks back, for Among Thieves. It was definitely...educational.
Okay, that sounds snarky, and maybe there is a tiny bit of that in there, but for the most part, yes, I did learn stuff, and no, it wasn't that bad.
Before diving into my impressions of the experience, I should probably take a minute to talk about what copyediting is. There's an excellent essay over at the Science Fiction Writer's of America (SFWA) site by Terry McGarry on the subject that covers it far better than I am willing (or qualified) to go into here. If you're a writer, or interested in publishing, go read it. But, in a nutshell, copyediting is the process wherein the publisher hires someone (the copyeditor) to go over your manuscript with a fine tooth comb. The copyeditor looks not only for incorrect grammar and misspellings, but also inconsistencies (Bob has green eyes on page, 12, but brown ones on page 132), unclear sentences, as well as continuity and factual errors. They also can make suggestions regarding wording, clarity, word choice, and so on. And, they produce the book's style sheet.
Let me digress for a moment on the style sheet.
It's awesome.
Okay, more specifically: The style sheet, in it's most basic form, is a catalog of the various rules and standards that are followed in the book with regards to spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and any notes that need to be made regarding the author's particular writing style. This is handy not only for the people who are going to later be proofreading the final version of the book, but, as in my case, for anyone who will be working with later books in the series. Establishing the ground rules for the nuts & bolts stuff early on helps prevent you going over the same ground every single book. Saves time and money, especially for later copyeditors. (For more on style sheets, see Deanna Hoak's essay here.)
But that's not the cool part for me; the cool part for me is that the style sheet also includes a list of all characters (major and minor), places and otherwise important things that appear in the book, along with the page number of their first appearance. All of them. This means I can check things like names, places, and so on at a glance, without having to open up and search my document. Likewise, I can figure out where someone showed up, which will often (but not always) tell me where a specific thing happened in the book, at least initially. And it just plain gives me a handy roster of people and places and things to reference when working on later books.
Needless to say, this takes a lot of work on the copyeditor's part. Which is why, with this admiration fully in mind, it can be surprising (to non-authors ;) how some writers tear at their hair and curse the names of their copyeditors (and vice versa for the copyeditors, I am sure). And yet, it is understandable, too.
At base, there is an almost necessary tension between the author and the copyeditor. The one wants the story presented as they wrote it, dammit, and the other wants the story to be (grammatically, etc.) clean & readable, dammit, and sometimes the two do not exactly meet. As I told several people as I wended my way through my copyedits, "Correct grammar does not necessarily equal good story telling." There are times that participles needs to dangle, sentences need to be in fragments, and tenses need to conflict, and so on. The things can contribute to tone and voice, and impact the author's writing style. Sometimes, this is readily apparent; other times, it is a more subtle thing. Ditto certain words choice or usages, descriptors, sentence structures, and so on.
By the same token, though, sloppy or unclear writing doesn't help the story. No matter how "unique" or "necessary" the writer's voice may be, if the reader can't figure out what the hell they are reading, it doesn't bode well for the book (Ulysses aside :). The copyeditor makes the suggestions and changes they do to help the book read more cleanly and consistently, based not just on what "sounds right", but on numerous style and writing guides. Strunk & White. the Chicago Manual of Style, whatever house style sheet the publisher uses, various dictionaries...all are in the copyeditor's arsenal, ready to help clean and tighten and clarify the prose.
Given the competing agendas (not to mention authorial ego...this is their work, after all), you can start to see where the tension comes from. Speaking solely from the writer side of the equation, I experienced, at various times, feelings of: appreciation ("Oh, thank GOD she caught that!"); frustration ("If I wrote X, I meant X, dammit! STET!!"), stupidity ("I can't believe I misspelled that word this many times. She must think I'm an idiot."); confusion ("Wait -- why did she suggest this change? Did she even read this paragraph?"); respect ("Damn. Good catch and alternate suggestion."); superiority ("Why yes, that is, in fact a word. Here's the definition from 1732."); doubt ("Okay, if she didn't get this, will the reader; or is it clear, and she's just missing it?"); and, of course, boredom ("Yeah. Good. Yeah. Bad comma, got it. Yeah. No. No. Missed capital. Yeah. No..."). I can only imagine what went through my copyeditor's head as she worked through the manuscript, but I expect it was an interesting mix as well.
Ultimately, the author gets to make the final call on all this, marking up the already marked up manuscript, accepting the copyedits he agrees with, rejecting others, answering queries, and occasionally rewriting bits that have been tagged as unclear or inconsistent or what have you. A wise author will neither accept nor reject all of the copyeditor's changes out of hand, but weigh each suggestion on its own merits. It's easy to get defensive, or alternately uncertain, in the face of a copyedited manuscript (I didn't have one single page in my 409 page MS without at least one suggested change or correction) -- all those comments and corrections can seem daunting -- but it's important to remember that all of this is being done in an effort to make your book better. It's nothing personal, and not a comment on you or your writing; it's just part of the process.
But it can still drive you nuts sometimes.
Okay, that sounds snarky, and maybe there is a tiny bit of that in there, but for the most part, yes, I did learn stuff, and no, it wasn't that bad.
Before diving into my impressions of the experience, I should probably take a minute to talk about what copyediting is. There's an excellent essay over at the Science Fiction Writer's of America (SFWA) site by Terry McGarry on the subject that covers it far better than I am willing (or qualified) to go into here. If you're a writer, or interested in publishing, go read it. But, in a nutshell, copyediting is the process wherein the publisher hires someone (the copyeditor) to go over your manuscript with a fine tooth comb. The copyeditor looks not only for incorrect grammar and misspellings, but also inconsistencies (Bob has green eyes on page, 12, but brown ones on page 132), unclear sentences, as well as continuity and factual errors. They also can make suggestions regarding wording, clarity, word choice, and so on. And, they produce the book's style sheet.
Let me digress for a moment on the style sheet.
It's awesome.
Okay, more specifically: The style sheet, in it's most basic form, is a catalog of the various rules and standards that are followed in the book with regards to spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and any notes that need to be made regarding the author's particular writing style. This is handy not only for the people who are going to later be proofreading the final version of the book, but, as in my case, for anyone who will be working with later books in the series. Establishing the ground rules for the nuts & bolts stuff early on helps prevent you going over the same ground every single book. Saves time and money, especially for later copyeditors. (For more on style sheets, see Deanna Hoak's essay here.)
But that's not the cool part for me; the cool part for me is that the style sheet also includes a list of all characters (major and minor), places and otherwise important things that appear in the book, along with the page number of their first appearance. All of them. This means I can check things like names, places, and so on at a glance, without having to open up and search my document. Likewise, I can figure out where someone showed up, which will often (but not always) tell me where a specific thing happened in the book, at least initially. And it just plain gives me a handy roster of people and places and things to reference when working on later books.
Needless to say, this takes a lot of work on the copyeditor's part. Which is why, with this admiration fully in mind, it can be surprising (to non-authors ;) how some writers tear at their hair and curse the names of their copyeditors (and vice versa for the copyeditors, I am sure). And yet, it is understandable, too.
At base, there is an almost necessary tension between the author and the copyeditor. The one wants the story presented as they wrote it, dammit, and the other wants the story to be (grammatically, etc.) clean & readable, dammit, and sometimes the two do not exactly meet. As I told several people as I wended my way through my copyedits, "Correct grammar does not necessarily equal good story telling." There are times that participles needs to dangle, sentences need to be in fragments, and tenses need to conflict, and so on. The things can contribute to tone and voice, and impact the author's writing style. Sometimes, this is readily apparent; other times, it is a more subtle thing. Ditto certain words choice or usages, descriptors, sentence structures, and so on.
By the same token, though, sloppy or unclear writing doesn't help the story. No matter how "unique" or "necessary" the writer's voice may be, if the reader can't figure out what the hell they are reading, it doesn't bode well for the book (Ulysses aside :). The copyeditor makes the suggestions and changes they do to help the book read more cleanly and consistently, based not just on what "sounds right", but on numerous style and writing guides. Strunk & White. the Chicago Manual of Style, whatever house style sheet the publisher uses, various dictionaries...all are in the copyeditor's arsenal, ready to help clean and tighten and clarify the prose.
Given the competing agendas (not to mention authorial ego...this is their work, after all), you can start to see where the tension comes from. Speaking solely from the writer side of the equation, I experienced, at various times, feelings of: appreciation ("Oh, thank GOD she caught that!"); frustration ("If I wrote X, I meant X, dammit! STET!!"), stupidity ("I can't believe I misspelled that word this many times. She must think I'm an idiot."); confusion ("Wait -- why did she suggest this change? Did she even read this paragraph?"); respect ("Damn. Good catch and alternate suggestion."); superiority ("Why yes, that is, in fact a word. Here's the definition from 1732."); doubt ("Okay, if she didn't get this, will the reader; or is it clear, and she's just missing it?"); and, of course, boredom ("Yeah. Good. Yeah. Bad comma, got it. Yeah. No. No. Missed capital. Yeah. No..."). I can only imagine what went through my copyeditor's head as she worked through the manuscript, but I expect it was an interesting mix as well.
Ultimately, the author gets to make the final call on all this, marking up the already marked up manuscript, accepting the copyedits he agrees with, rejecting others, answering queries, and occasionally rewriting bits that have been tagged as unclear or inconsistent or what have you. A wise author will neither accept nor reject all of the copyeditor's changes out of hand, but weigh each suggestion on its own merits. It's easy to get defensive, or alternately uncertain, in the face of a copyedited manuscript (I didn't have one single page in my 409 page MS without at least one suggested change or correction) -- all those comments and corrections can seem daunting -- but it's important to remember that all of this is being done in an effort to make your book better. It's nothing personal, and not a comment on you or your writing; it's just part of the process.
But it can still drive you nuts sometimes.