Category Archives: Writing and Editing

Writing and Editing

Keeping Track of Time in Fiction

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Recently, I gave fellow members of the London Writers Society an editing exercise that began as follows: It was December 15, 2005, and I was eight months pregnant with the twins. It was nine in the morning, and I was eagerly awaiting my first client of the day. Two pages later, the exercise concluded with this: In April 2006 I gave birth to the twins and was grateful that Mr. Fletcher had spared my life that December night. 

What happened between the beginning and the end of the story was that Maisie, the narrator, was threatened by her client, Fletcher, that December morning. Most of the writers easily picked up on Maisie’s laughably long gestation period–if she was eight months pregnant in December, she should have given birth in January, not April. Fewer writers noticed that it wasn’t nighttime when Maisie’s life was spared, but morning.

While it’s not difficult to pick out timeline errors in short pieces like the one I gave the writers’ group, the task becomes much more challenging where novels are concerned.  Imagine that it’s Chapter 1 when Maisie mentions being eight months pregnant in December. Then, 300 pages later, she tells us it’s now April and she’s just given birth. Alert readers will remember the earlier reference to December and notice that the math is off.  But what if Maisie is a bit more subtle and says she gave birth as the daffodils were blooming, and we know that she lives in Southern Ontario? The glitch is less obvious because actual dates aren’t mentioned, but it’s still something that alert readers will notice. It will confuse them, jolting them right out of the fictional world you’re trying to create.

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These sorts of errors are common in the manuscripts I edit. It’s as though some writers aren’t fully conscious of the passage of time in their novels. Probably it’s because they’re too busy focusing on other aspects, such as plot or character development, which is understandable. But a writer can’t afford to let their timeline go awry. Your job is to write for the most alert reader–and that means keeping a strict eye on your timeline and ensuring that all of your time references make perfect sense.

How do you do this? Explicit labels can help. Some authors begin chapters or subsections with time references: Thursday, April 24th, for example. Some might add an exact time: 2:00 p.m. Being that specific is common in thrillers, where the characters might be racing against time. As an editor, I’m always pleased to see labelling of chapters or subsections with time data because it suggests that the writer has given serious thought to the time issues. But within those chapters and subsections, I still have to watch for problematic time references. Say it’s 2:00 p.m. when Fred is kidnapped and 6:00 p.m. when he’s found. But if the author says later that he was found five hours after being kidnapped, that’s a error, and it may cause a ripple effect of further errors if it’s overlooked. And if it takes Fred’s rescuers two hours to find him after they learn that without a doubt he’s being held in a tiny house only two blocks away, that’s a problem too–two hours is either inaccurate, or they’d better have a good excuse for being so slow to the rescue!

Making notes on your novel’s timeline is an excellent idea, and I would recommend doing this right from your first draft. I make such notes when I’m writing my own stories, and also on my authors’ timelines when I’m editing their work. Let’s say, for instance, that the action in a book I’m editing unfolds over several weeks. I jot down things like Chapter 1: Week One (first week of January), Monday morning, along with the main plot developments in Chapter 1, e.g., Laura bumps into old flame Ben (they broke up seven years ago), meets him that night for dinner. That way,  150 pages later, when it’s Week 8 and the events in Chapter 1 are referred to as occurring four months earlier, or in the summertime, I’ll know that this is wrong. You can easily write similar notes in a notebook, or type a few pages of notes. When you’re verifying timeline information as you self-edit, either of these is easier to flip through than a novel-length manuscript.  Or consider printing off blank calendar pages, which you can then fill in with dates, chapter numbers, and the main events of those chapters. This is also a handy reference that will keep you on track.

Be acutely conscious of the passage of time in your novel, and take the necessary measures to ensure accuracy every step of the way. That way, you won’t end up with silly gaffes like including a woman’s twelve-month pregnancy in your book!

 

 

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Writing and Editing

Why an Editor Is Not Going to Steal Your Work

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If you regularly hang out in online writers’ groups, you’ll notice a certain animosity toward editors from some of the participants. Although many writers in such groups see editors as valuable partners in elevating their manuscript to a publishable state, there’s a vocal minority, many of whom haven’t had their work edited before, who distrust editors. Their attitude stems partly from the discomfort of having their work scrutinized, which I fully understand. As an editor who’s also had my writing edited, I know it’s not easy being on the receiving end of criticism, however tactful and constructive it may be—and we editors go out of our way to be sensitive and helpful! But perceiving us as the enemy also stems from misconceptions about what we actually do. One of those misconceptions is that an editor is going to steal your work.

I’m surprised by how often I see people in writers’ groups saying this. I guess manuscript theft could happen, but only if you’re unfortunate enough to fall victim to a bad apple. Let me be clear—no reputable editor is going to steal their client’s work. If they did, word of this would get around and ruin the editor’s business in no time at all. Trust me, if an editor has spent years honing their skills and their reputation in the publishing industry, destroying their business is the last thing they want. They’re not looking to invite lawsuits from authors. And think about it: Would publishing someone else’s manuscript under their own name really be a good way for an editor to increase their income? If they wanted to self-publish your book, they’d have to put considerable time into editing it, designing it themselves (if they have the skills) or hiring a designer, and marketing it themselves. The reality is that very few books sell enough copies to make going to all that time and effort and expense worthwhile. And then there’s the fact that professional editors are an ethical bunch. Doing the best we can for our clients is part of our training, and most of us get upset with ourselves when we allow a mistake to slip into a client’s published book. We get into this business not only because we enjoy working with words and have a facility for it, but also because we like helping people make their dreams come true. It’s satisfying to see our authors succeed—a form of psychic pay. If we wanted to get rich quick, we would have chosen a different career path.

Behind “an editor is going to steal my work” lurks the big question: So how do I find a reputable editor? Start by consulting directories of professional editors, such as Editors Canada, Editorial Freelancers Association (EFA) in the US, and the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) in the UK. At such sites, you’ll find profiles of editors, and you can narrow the field to a few promising prospects who might suit your needs. Does the editor have experience in your genre? You wouldn’t want to work with someone who’s never edited chick lit if that’s what you’re writing, as they won’t be familiar with the conventions of the genre. What kind of qualifications do they have as an editor? Look at their educational achievements and length of time in the industry. And do they have a previous career that would make them a particularly good fit for you? Many editors had other careers well before they came to editing (for instance, I worked with antiques and was an appraiser at an auction house), and if their knowledge of a particular field matches your subject matter, they’d be an obvious choice.  All such details of an editor’s background should be apparent from the profile—and their website.

When you find someone promising, start an email conversation with them and you’ll gain a better understanding of whether or not the two of you are in sync. The editor should answer your emails within a reasonable period of time, seem interested in your project, and be pleasant to deal with. They should be able to explain the process if you were to work together and be able to define any publishing industry terms that might be unfamiliar to you (such as what the various types of editing entail). If communication is somehow difficult between you and the editor—you feel that you don’t see eye to eye, or that the editor isn’t adequately addressing your concerns—you probably won’t enjoy working together and should seek someone else.

When you ask, “What do you charge?” be aware that no professional editor is going to throw out a number before seeing a sample of your work (or in some cases, the entire manuscript) and knowing your manuscript’s word count. Writing quality varies significantly from one writer to the next, and editors can’t determine the depth of the editing or the types of editing you’ll need without seeing your writing. If an editor does give you a dollar figure without seeing a sample and knowing your word count, they’re not someone you should ever hire. And if they seem ridiculously cheap, that’s a red flag as well. And do ask for a sample edit; most editors will provide one of about a thousand words or so free of charge. It’s the best indicator of the editor’s skill level and whether or not their style of editing suits you. If you still need reassurance that you’re dealing with a professional, ask to see a copy of the editor’s standard contract. They should readily provide you with one, and the terms and conditions contained within are a good indicator of their level of professionalism.

 

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Writing and Editing

Beyond Typos: Why Get Your Work Professionally Edited?

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This blog post originally appeared as an article on this site. Although most self-publishing authors now understand the value of having their manuscript edited, this wasn’t the case a few years ago. If you’re a writer who’s wondering how necessary professional editing is, please read on.

It’s a fact: writers need to have their work professionally edited. If you’ve spent countless hours writing and rewriting your novel, you’re much too close to your work and have probably read it so many times that you’ll overlook even the most basic typos. You’ve gone word blind.

But real editing goes well beyond simply knowing how to use spell-check to catch typos, and unless you’re an editor, you won’t be aware of all the types of errors you should be looking for. Although you may be tempted to get your cousin who majored in English Lit fifteen years ago to edit your work, you should instead hire a trained professional who can shape and polish your work to publishable standards. Your work deserves nothing less.

Here are some important reasons to get your work professionally edited: consistency, conciseness, and clarity.

Consistency

You’re probably unaware of the myriad ways in which an editor maintains consistency across the board. Without consistency, discerning readers will be distracted from your content by bothersome little errors. Worse, inconsistencies often cause readers to scratch their heads in confusion. So much for clarity! This example illustrates just a few of the types of inconsistencies that editors look for.

Marion selected her favorite dress, which was a beautiful colour—blue, to match her eyes. To go with it, she picked out black sandals, a crimson cashmere scarf, and a nutmeg-brown hand-bag. The handbag was a present she’d received from her erstwhile fiancé, Edmond J. Babcock. Edmond was a mover and shaker in the fashion business, and he’d given her a number of designer hand bags over the years. She enumerated them: 1 red, three brown, and 5 blue. Then there was that huge moss-green bag that he had matched precisely to the color of Marianne’s eyes.

Did you catch the inconsistencies?

  • The sample contains both American and Canadian spelling—favorite and colour. And to make matters worse, colour is spelled a second time in the American way (color). Keeping in mind the market for their book, the author needs to decide whether to use Canadian or American spelling.
  • The word handbag is treated three ways: as one word, as a hyphenated word, and as two words.
  • Numbers are sometimes spelled out (three) and sometimes written as numerals (1).
  • Most troubling of all is the Marion and Marianne problem.  Given the author’s general sloppiness, we might assume the two are one and the same person. Then again, there could be two characters here, as one has blue eyes and the other has green. Or has the author simply been careless enough to allow Marion’s blue eyes to morph to green?  (You’d be surprised by how often this occurs.) Would Edmond really be dumb enough to give Marion a handbag the colour of Marianne’seyes? (If so, this could explain why he’s an erstwhile fiancé.) You can see the confusion that a few small inconsistencies cause. All this can be sorted out only by querying the author about their intentions, which is what a professional editor will do.

Conciseness

It’s all too easy to fall in love with words, and some writers think that the bigger the words, the better. If you pepper your prose with lots of fancy adjectives and adverbs and throw in wordy phrases, won’t that will make your writing more sophisticated? Usually not. More often than not, readers will feel lost in the Land of Verbosity and may need a machete to hack their way through to any clear understanding of what you have to say. At best, wordiness slows readers down. At worst, it makes them grow exasperated and impatient as they wrack their brains to decipher the intended meaning. They may ultimately lose the battle and toss the book aside. Never sacrifice clarity for the chance to throw around pretentious words and impressive-sounding phrases. Nothing is more important than clear communication, and it is the editor’s job to unearth the meaning hidden in wordy manuscripts by removing all that clutter.

Here’s an example of wordiness extraordinaire:

Alfred, who was a distinguished professor of note who prided himself, for the most part (although he had lapses) on his perfectionistic, meticulous, careful, persnickety, detail-oriented attention to the finer points of domestic science, in modern times known as housekeeping or even housework, had, as a matter of fact, just this morning detected, much to his horror, the presence of the a beetle, which appeared to be of the ladybug type, crawling in his breakfast cereal, which this morning was granola.

Here’s my version, which I’ve edited for wordiness:

This morning, Alfred, a distinguished professor and mostly meticulous housekeeper, was horrified to find a ladybug in his granola.

That was pretty easy to understand, wasn’t it? No meaning has been sacrificed.

Clarity

You’ve already seen examples of how clarity has been lost when the author hasn’t been consistent or concise. There are endless ways in which authors can create great clouds of confusion in readers’ heads. Here are just a couple of examples:

Hiking staff in hand, Fred’s head was set firmly on the road ahead.

Oh dear. You can be forgiven for thinking that Fred’s head has somehow sprouted a hand that is carrying a hiking staff, for this is what the writer seems to be telling us. In fact, Fred himself is carrying the staff. This is a classic example of a dangling modifier, in which the initial phrase attaches incorrectly to what follows it. Fiction manuscripts are often littered with dangling modifiers; the result is often bizarre imagery and unintentional humour. We have an added problem here as well, for apparently Fred’s head is also on the road while he carries his walking stick, which is highly unlikely. The writer surely means that Fred’s gaze is focused on the road. This example could be corrected as follows:

Hiking staff in hand, Fred stared at the road ahead.

Another surefire way to confuse your readers is to fail to identify clearly what you mean by words like it and this. Editors identify this as an unclear pronoun antecedent error. Here’s an example:

Tony poured the Cabernet Sauvignon in happy anticipation of Cynthia’s arrival. She burst through the door, her purse stuffed with a yappy, writhing chihuahua. Later he would reflect with considerable disappointment that it hadn’t tasted at all like he’d expected it to.

Has Cynthia’s dog been the unfortunate victim of Tony’s carnivorous urges? Or is Tony merely disappointed in the wine? The odds are good that the writer is talking about the wine in that last sentence, but if he’s given to black humour, the “it” could refer to the dog. We really can’t know for sure without querying the author.

The three Cs—consistency, conciseness, and clarity—are just some of the essentials that an editor addresses. Unless these issues are taken care of, a manuscript can suffer from mind-boggling verbosity and confusing constructions that cause readers to give up in frustration. A professional edit will ensure that the message is clear and comprehensible, thereby allowing the writer to reach the intended audience.

 

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Writing and Editing

The Virtues of Sample Edits

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Like most editors, I’m willing to do free sample edits for prospective clients who request them. Typically, I’ll edit a thousand words or so–that’s four double-spaced pages. Of course, not all authors request a sample edit before hiring me; they determine from our email exchanges and the content of my website that somehow I’m the editor for them, so the sample edit gets skipped. But is it wise to skip it?  I’ll consider this question from the perspective of both the author and the editor.

Many authors who come to me have never been edited before and so are anxious. Being edited is a new and scary adventure to them, and many questions will course through their minds. Will I still recognize my writing after you’re done with it?  Will you stomp all over my style, my author’s voice? Are you skilled enough and sufficiently careful to catch even the most minuscule of errors?  (Can you even spell “minuscule”?) Will your comments be helpful and insightful, your criticisms gentle and respectful?  Ideally, the sample edit will answer all these questions and will reassure the author that the editor is suitable for the project. However, sometimes the author may decide that the editor is doing too much or not enough or is in some other way not right for them and will seek someone who’s a better fit. So the sample edit is often the deciding factor when it comes to which editor to hire.

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I’ve realized more and more over my nearly twelve years of freelance editing that the sample edit is every bit as valuable to me as it is to the author. First, it allows me to gauge how many pages per hour of the client’s work I can edit, thus making my cost estimates more accurate. Second, it allows me to ensure that the author is a good fit for me. (Yes, authors audition editors via the sample edit, but we audition authors too.) Point number two hit me like a ton of bricks recently, when I was approached by a woman I’ll call Vivian.

Vivian was a wonderful writer, though her writing still could have used an editor’s touch. After the initial friendly email chit-chat, things went south. Vivian kept saying she hadn’t received my estimate (I sent it four times). When she did get it, she wasn’t happy with my numbers and I had to justify them. She then requested a sample edit, and I sensed I should tread lightly. The bulk of my corrections were grammatical fixes, with some stylistic editing to fine-tune the odd cumbersome sentence. In marginal comments, I explained my reasons for the types of changes suggested. I also strongly advised Vivian not to use lyrics from songs that couldn’t possibly be in the public domain, explaining why this was a bad idea.

Sadly, Vivian responded with irritation. She thought I’d disrespected her writing voice–never my intention–and explained why my grammatical fixes and stylistic tweaks were unacceptable to her. Clearly, she had devised a lot of her own “rules”–more like personal idiosyncrasies, since from what I could see they were unrelated to known editorial style guidelines. We were speaking a different language. Vivian still wanted to work together, but I explained that if she was that upset upon seeing a short sample, she wouldn’t like the rest of the edited manuscript either, and I couldn’t risk having an unhappy client. I also couldn’t play by her rules when I had no way of anticipating what they would be; I’d be unknowingly violating them at every turn. I didn’t see how I could improve upon the edit I’d submitted to her and said I hoped she’d find a more suitable editor.

Vivian asked me to reconsider and returned the sample with her changes to my edits. She’d accepted very few of my suggestions, even the advice about lyrics. That sealed it for me: I knew I couldn’t work with her. I’m a reasonable person who never expects authors to accept all my suggestions, but if they accept next to nothing, then we’re obviously an editorial mismatch. Fortunately, in my experience such an extreme mismatch is rare. But if I hadn’t done the sample edit, I never would have known how incompatible we were until it was too late.

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Writing and Editing

The Perfect Edit: Is It Possible?

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Earlier this year, one of my young clients asked, “If my manuscript isn’t perfect, do I get a rebate?” I’ve been editing for twelve years, and this was a first. He’d found what he thought were two errors in a short story I’d edited, but only one of them qualified as a legitimate error.  What he didn’t seem to appreciate all that much was the fact that I’d caught hundreds of errors. And like any good editor should, I’d also tightened up, smoothed out, and clarified his writing. He had a limited budget, so I’d done exactly one pass (or round) of editing–a pass for me being an intensive edit, followed by another read-through in which I do more editing. I explained to him that one pass doesn’t guarantee perfection.  Most traditionally published books, I said, go through multiple editing passes and proofreading, and even then, an error or two might still slip through. So no rebate was going to happen.

This theme of perfection cropped up again in November,  when I gave a workshop to a group of writers at the Toronto Reference Library. I covered the process of hiring and working with a freelance editor. One thing I mentioned was not expecting editing perfection, especially after only one pass, which is often all my self-publishing clients can afford. My workshop included a handout, and later I received an email from a participant saying that he’d found a mistake in it, and that because of this one tiny error, he’d be very hesitant to hire me and would wonder what else I didn’t know. In my reply, I acknowledged that I had indeed made a mistake and added that I’d never made any claims to be perfect, and he won’t find an editor who is. I’d also been wearing my writer’s hat when I put together the handout and, as every editor knows, even editors need to be edited.

As editors, all we can do is our very best. And we do try very hard. We tend to be perfectionists, which is why we are doing the sort of work we do in the first place, and we truly feel bad, often embarrassed, when someone points out something we’ve missed. Clients have very high expectations of us, as they ought to, but some degree of error is inevitable simply because we’re human beings and not robots. We have off days, or we get tired, stressed, or ill.  An error rate of 5 percent in an editing pass is not unreasonable, which is why, if the client can afford it, the manuscript should go through more than one editing pass and ideally be proofread by a second editor. It’s all too easy for anyone, including editors, to go word blind after having read a manuscript several times, which is why a second pair of editorial eyes for the proofreading phase is recommended.

Unfortunately, some people delight in catching others out, clearly enjoying the “Gotcha!” moment. But the editing process should never degenerate into a smug dance of one-upmanship. When the writer respects the expertise the editor brings to the table and the editor respects the story the writer is trying to tell, then this sort of game doesn’t happen. Instead, editing becomes a wonderfully collaborative process, with both parties feeding off each other’s suggestions as they work toward their mutual goal: improving the quality of the manuscript. Tact needs to be employed along the way so that no one ever winds up feeling stupid or careless. And appreciation of each other’s contributions to the process is critical to making the experience a positive one for both the writer and editor. Yes, the odd error can creep in or stubbornly stick despite everything editors do to prevent such mishaps, but ultimately mistakes are best prevented by doing more rounds of editing.

 

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Book Reviews, Writing and Editing

Book Review: American Slang

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You’re reading a novel set during the Middle Ages, and a conflict breaks out between defenders of a castle and enemy forces. One of the characters describes those who are energetically engaging in battle as “going at it hammer and tongs.” And when a defender forcefully ejects an enemy soldier from inside the castle, he’s jubilant about giving the attacker “the bum’s rush,” adding that he’s “happy as a pig in slop.” Are you cringing yet? The problem here is that the slang is all wrong for the period: “going at it hammer and tongs” originated in 1833, “the bum’s rush” dates from the 1920s, and “happy as a pig in slop” is from the 1970s. Oops. Clearly, neither the author of the book nor its editor had a copy of  American Slang, (fourth edition, 2008) on hand to prevent them from making such embarrassing bloopers.

American Slang, edited by Barbara Ann Kipfer and Robert L. Chapman, is an indispensable reference book for anyone who writes or edits historical fiction. In addition to defining slang terms, the entries indicate how such terms are used in sentences, note examples of synonymous slang, and provide notes on etymology if this is known. But the book contains other features that make it more useful than other slang dictionaries. The addition of dating labels really sets this dictionary apart from many I looked at; when known, the era or sometimes even the exact year when a slang term originated is noted, and I found that very few entries had no indication of date.  As well, the social group or milieu from which the term came is often identified–“Underworld,” “Jazz musicians,” “Teenagers,” to name a few–giving writers and editors additional clues about the appropriate context for using the slang. The dictionary also contains “impact symbols” that designate slang that is considered either completely taboo or vulgar, so you’ll know to avoid using these in most situations.

Apart from being an essential reference, American Slang is a treat for anyone who loves words.  I find myself dipping into it periodically, simply because it’s hard to resist the chance to learn about some of the most vigorous and colourful words and phrases in the English language.  As the blurb on the back says, American Slang is “the most buzzworthy, banging collection of colloquial American English”–and if you’re not quite sure what that means, you definitely need this book!

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Book Marketing, Writing and Editing

Out of the Closet with Author Services

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For the past decade, I’ve been an editor first and foremost. My ideal is to help authors make their storylines sing and their characters so three-dimensional, they practically leap off the page. I also aim to smooth out my clients’ dishevelled sentences and slim down their bloated prose. I nitpick to make sure the wrong words aren’t capitalized and the quotation marks are turned the right way around and are consistently curly (or straight, if you prefer). Like most editors I know, my editing work runs the gamut from the big-picture stuff to the finest details. But lately, I’ve been doing more than editing.

As the years have flown by, more and more authors have turned to me to help them promote their books, and I’ve found myself writing for them. I admit, I fell into this–it wasn’t something I actively pursued. Initially, I lacked confidence in my ability to help, but I’ve gained a lot of experience and received plenty of positive feedback from clients about what I’ve written for them.  As I’ve gained self-assurance, I’ve discovered that I love the challenge of this work. And it’s so gratifying to have another way, besides editing, of helping my clients realize their publishing dreams. Until now I’ve been quiet about my writing work, but I’m declaring myself out of the closet. Loudly and proudly, I’m officially adding Author Services to my bag of tricks!

For those of you wondering what writing services for authors I offer, here’s a brief rundown:

Back-cover Blurbs. You’re self-publishing and need a catchy blurb that will hook potential readers emotionally and convey your novel in a nutshell–without giving too much away, of course. Writing a good blurb always gives me a delicious thrill (I’m funny that way), and I love the opportunity to use my words to move people to read your book.

Note: “Blurb” in this case does not refer to critical reviews that may appear on your book’s cover.  It’s unethical to write these for an author when I have worked on their book.

Query Letters. You’re trying to pitch your short story to a magazine or your novel to an agent or publisher and don’t know to tackle the all-important query letter. I’ll craft a concise one that will cover everything it needs to and help get you noticed.

Chapter Summaries. You’ve been asked by a publisher to submit succinct chapter summaries, but you feel much too close to your work and can’t find the forest for the trees. Using vigorous, engaging writing, I’ll zero in on the essential plot threads in each chapter.

Synopses. Boiling a novel down to five or six hundred words is a task most writers dread, and with good reason–it’s tough work, especially when it’s your baby. Your synopsis can’t read like a dull, mechanical account of events; a good one tells your story but in a lively, colourful way. I can help.

Biographies. Whether it’s for the back cover of your book or for your website, tell me about yourself and I’ll help you, Mr. or Ms. Author, present yourself in the most flattering light.

Although I’m delighted to write any of the above, I will edit your versions if you’d prefer. Whether I’m starting from scratch or simply polishing your existing material, we’ll work together to create the best blurbs, query letters, summaries, synopses, and biographies we possibly can.

 

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Virginia's Ghost, Writing and Editing

The Great Literary Blog Hop

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I was recently approached by fellow editrix and  fantasy authoress Vanessa Ricci-Thode to participate in something called a blog hop. Vanessa published her novel The Dragon Whisperer last year and now has another book in the works. Honestly, I don’t know where she finds the time and energy to do all these literary things and raise a child too.  When she first mentioned the blog hop, I didn’t have a clue what it was, but I soon learned it would give me an opportunity to blab about my writing. What writer can say no to that? Thank you, Vanessa, for giving me the kick in the pants I needed to start blogging again.

As part of the blog hop, I’m required to answer four questions. At the end, I’ll provide links to the websites and books of some terrific writers who are taking up the challenge to continue this blog hop. So without further ado, let’s get started.

1.  What are you working on/writing?

As far as paid work goes, I’m currently editing the third book in a series of thrillers. The novel is action-packed, well-written, and suspenseful, so I’m really enjoying the process. Editing flows quite easily when the material you’re working on is so good. I consider myself very fortunate to be working with this particular author, who not only writes well but is very pleasant to deal with and shares my love of dogs.

There’s also my novel, Virginia’s Ghost. The book is a cozy mystery with a supernatural element. My protagonist, Virginia, is an auction house employee who encounters a rather demanding ghost named Constance from the 1920s. She realizes the ghost is trying to tell her something important, and precisely what is revealed as she reads Constance’s diary, written when she was a young woman. I include several diary entries, so I’m working with two first-person narrators. Simultaneously, mayhem and murder begin happening at the auction house, and the ghost is ultimately the key to making sense of all the chaos. Past and present are interwoven, and the book is really about the extraordinary connection these two women from separate eras forge and how they affect each other.

It does feel as if I’ve been writing Virginia’s Ghost forever, but after two rounds of edits by professional editor friends, I’m finally at the end of the writing process. Because I’m a fanatical perfectionist, I’ve printed out the whole thing to read one more time and tweak as needed. About a month from now, we’ll be starting the cover and page design, which I’m very excited about.

Virginia'g Ghost book cover

2.  How does your work/writing differ from others in its genre?

I call my book a cozy mystery, but I doubt it is, strictly speaking–it’s just what it’s closest to being. One way in which it differs is that my protagonist isn’t really a sleuth as such and certainly doesn’t see herself as taking on that role. Instead, she has chaotic circumstances thrust upon her and copes as best as she can. Virginia’s Ghost does have a number of the characteristics of cosy mysteries, though: it’s set in a very closed community and features a victim who dare I say deserves to die. As well, there’s no graphic sex or violence, so it’s suitable for all ages. And although I intended to write a page-turner, I also like to think it’s more than a whodunit.

3.  Why do you write what you do?

I’ve been very influenced by my previous career. I worked at an auction house for about fourteen years and always thought it would be an excellent setting for either a mystery or a ghost story (I ended up combining both). There’s something both intriguing and slightly creepy about being surrounded by dusty old antiques that suggested both of those genres to me. I have a fascination with past eras, particularly the 1920s, so I wanted to bring a nostalgic storyline into the book–the story of Constance, the beautiful flapper ghost.  As well, there’s always a lot of adrenaline surging through the auction world–the pressure of crazy deadlines and the excitement of a live auction–that I thought would make for a dramatic book. And I met a lot of eccentric people, both clients and fellow employees, who I’ve drawn on in creating the characters for the book. The day I left that job, I thanked the staff for providing such wonderful inspiration for the novel I would one day write. Some of them looked a little worried when I said that. I guess they didn’t want to find themselves as a character in the book–particularly a villain or someone who gets murdered. But my characters are composites of various people I’ve met in my life.

4.  How does your writing process work?

What can I say? It’s slow and painstaking. This is because I’m an editor too. My sentences barely have a chance to squeak out before I’m polishing them to within an inch of their lives. I try to tell myself just to write, but it’s nearly impossible to quiet the professional editor in my head. But I’m also a better writer since I became an editor. I think I must have been pretty awful before.

I’m actually not too sure how many drafts of Virginia’s Ghost I’ve done–it’s either five or six, I think. It often tell my editing clients that it’s a good idea to start with an outline, but I didn’t do that myself. There–I’ve come out of the closet as a non-outliner! Actually, though, I did put together a synopsis of all my chapters after I’d written my third draft, and it did help me see what wasn’t really adding up in the narrative. And doing this helped me get unstuck and move forward.

***

I now pass the baton to my chosen blog hoppers, who are as follows:

Tiana Warner. Tiana is the author of The Infinite Knowledge of J.T. Badgley, an intensely dramatic science fiction novel that takes place on a planet called Zielaarde but illuminates much about life here on Earth.  As you’ll see from Tiana’s website, she’s also an accomplished poet. You can read my interview with Tiana here.

Pat Krapf. Pat has just published Brainwash, the first of a series of techno-thrillers featuring tough, no-nonsense private investigator Darcy McClain, formerly an FBI agent, and her sidekick Bullet, a giant schnauzer. Pat is currently following up Brainwash with two more Darcy McClain thrillers, Gadgets and Genocide.

Martin Turnbull. Martin has written the Garden of Allah series of novels, which are set in Hollywood’s golden age. If you love the thought of rubbing shoulders with screen legends like Greta Garbo and Errol Flynn, you’ll love Martin’s novels–The Garden on Sunset, The Trouble with Scarlett, and Citizen Hollywood.

Ali Lawati. Ali is a children’s author who has written The Jungle Adventure of Chimpoo, a whimsical tale of a monkey family.

 

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Virginia's Ghost, Writing and Editing

Back-cover Blurbs: What I’ve Learned So Far

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I’ve been crafting it off and on for weeks now, and sometimes I lie awake at night, mentally tweaking the wording until it’s just so. It consists of four little paragraphs, a mere two hundred words. But those paragraphs might be the hardest thing I’ve ever written, and every one of those words has to pull its weight. What, you might ask, is causing me such writerly agony? The back-cover blurb for my novel, Virginia’s Ghost.

Logic would dictate that this process shouldn’t be so excruciating. After all, I’ve written or edited blurbs for many clients before, so I know the drill. And no one knows my book better than I do, right? But maybe familiarity is precisely the problem. What’s making the blurb so challenging is knowing my book all too well; I’ve been living and breathing Virginia’s Ghost  in all its subtle nuances for quite some time. With so many tiny details about the plot, character, setting, and dialogue filling my brain, I’m finding it tricky to pick out the broad strokes.  Here’s my latest effort to whittle the book down to its essence and pull my audience in (and please feel free to criticize, as I still consider the blurb a work in progress).

Antiques specialist Virginia Blythe of Gable & Co. Auctioneers is working late one night when she hears mournful wailing. Following the sound to its source, she gasps in astonishment: a breathtakingly beautiful flapper who looks like a refugee from an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel is lingering in the shadows of the company’s basement. 

Later the disconsolate young woman returns to offer Virginia her diary, written in 1928. It reveals she’s the ghost of wealthy Toronto socialite Constance Pendleton. What is Constance trying to tell her? Intrigued, Virginia curls up with the diary and begins dipping her toes into the elegant opulence of Constance’s Jazz Age world.

But suddenly things go terribly awry at Gable & Co. Just as Virginia’s preparing for a blockbuster auction, some valuable porcelain mysteriously goes missing and her job is on the line. The worst, however, is yet to come. A shocking murder spins the eccentric world of the auction house into chaos. Struggling to make sense of it all, Virginia turns increasingly to the secrets of the diary.

Virginia’s Ghost is a tale of ghastly crime, euphoric love, and devastating betrayal in which two women transcend time to affect each other’s lives in startling ways.

Apart from discovering that writing your back-cover blurb is damn difficult to pull off, what else have I learned? Here’s my advice, based both on my experiences helping clients with their blurbs and writing my own.

First, get as much critical feedback throughout the blurb-writing process as you possibly can. People who have already read your book (e.g., your editor) are invaluable and can help you answer some key questions. For example, does the book actually deliver what you promise the reader in your blurb? If you’re describing thrills and chills aplenty on the back cover but your book’s more of a meditative literary piece, then you have a serious mismatch on your hands.  As well, does the tone of the blurb match your book’s tone? Obviously, it should, and only someone who’s read your book will know. But people who haven’t read it can also be enormously helpful in answering the big questions: Would you read this book? And if not, why not? Take every bit of feedback you receive to heart and keep revising your blurb until you’re hitting all the right notes.

Second, use language that will hook readers emotionally. What will grab them enough to make them want to read your book? If you’re not sure, think about who your readers are–their tastes, interests, and values. Chances are you’re like me and you’re writing for the very club you’re already a member of, which makes it much easier to know what your audience wants. I expect my readers to be largely 40+ women who are fans of the cosy mystery genre and period pieces. Because of this, I’ve tried to heighten the mood of mystery and intrigue and have emphasized the past by playing up the flapper ghost and the auction house setting. And I hope that the image of Virginia curling up to read the diary will strike a chord with my readers, who probably enjoy spending their Sunday afternoons with a cup of tea and a good book. Consider what’s important to your audience and use language and images that truly speak to them.

Finally, make every word count. Most blurbs aren’t much more than about 250 words, so you’ve got to be economical in your prose and focus on what’s really important–namely, some enticingly described story details that will leave your readers wanting to know more and eager to buy your book. Now’s not the time to blather on using wordy or vague language, pat yourself on the back for your brilliant book, or give too much of your plot away.  Remember that your blurb isn’t a synopsis but a teaser that functions as your primary marketing tool. You’ll be using it on the back of your book and elsewhere too–on your website, Facebook author page, and Amazon, for example. It’s worth your while to take your time and do it right.

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Writing and Editing

Usage Misdemeanours: Peak, Peek, and Pique

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Virtually every manuscript that’s crossed my desk for editing in the past year or so has contained errors in the use of the homophones peak, peek, and pique. Personally, I’ve never had any difficulty keeping these three little words straight, but given the number of errors I see it’s obvious they’re a source of confusion to writers everywhere. I’ve seen “peak my curiosity” and “a sneak peak” among other misuses. Here’s a quick peek (if you’ll pardon the expression) at the differences between these words and tips for keeping them straight.

Peak is a word dating back to the 1500s, and it has several meanings as a noun. It can be the pointed top of a mountain or any mountain with a pointed top. Mountains aside, a peak is something that protrudes and reaches a point.  When you whip egg whites vigorously, they end up having stiff peaks (and you’re then ready to make a meringue).  A peak is also a high point in a different sense; you can reach a peak of activity or achievement. For example, “Horace reached his peak as a magician.” As well, a peak is the point on a graph that reflects the highest point in terms of a physical quantity. The brim of a hat (particularly in Britain) or the narrow part of a ship’s hold are also definitions of the word peak.

As a verb, peak means to reach an apex, and often a certain time for this occurrence is specified. You could say that “Horace peaked as a magician at age thirty.” Peak is also an archaic verb from about 1600 meaning to become sickly. Derived from it are the adjectives peaked (always pronounced pea-ked) and peaky, which is more commonly used in Britain. Both words emerged in the early 1800s and not surprisingly mean pallid or gaunt from illness. Peak used as an adjective is fairly recent, dating to about 1900. Again, it’s related to attaining a maximum. “Horace reached his peak level as a magician.”

Peek as a verb means to glance quickly or slyly. For example, “Alice peeked through the window at her devastatingly handsome neighbour.” It can also mean to protrude very slightly so as to be barely visible, as in, “His fingertips peeked through the ends of his threadbare gloves.” As a verb, it’s very old, dating back to the 14th century. It wasn’t used as a noun (meaning a quick or furtive look) until the middle of the 19th century.

The important thing to remember about peek is that it’s always associated with looking, whereas peak is primarily associated with  high points. With this in mind, I created this illustration to help you distinguish the two. The two es  in peek resemble a pair of eyes, while the a in peak, when capitalized, resembles a mountain.

Peek vs. peak

Finally, there’s pique. The word derives from the French verb piquer, which means to prick or irritate. The noun form of the word emerged first around 1600 and means irritation or resentment at suffering a slight or blow to your pride. A person typically has “a fit of pique,” which isn’t much fun for those witnessing it. But pique is most commonly used as a verb meaning to arouse interest or curiosity, and it’s been used as such since the late 17th century. For example, “You piqued my curiosity when you started whispering.” To be piqued means you’re feeling irritable. To pique yourself means that you pride yourself, but this is an archaic usage that’s unfamiliar to most of us. Pique is also used a both a noun and a verb with reference to piquet, a card game for two, but most of the confusion writers experience isn’t related to this usage. To avoid confusing pique with the other homophones, remember that it’s the only one with an i in it, which stands for irritation.

I hope I’ve clarified the meanings of peak, peek, and pique for you and provided useful tips for keeping them straight. Now when you need to choose the right homophone in your writing, you’ll no longer experience confusion or succumb to fits of pique!

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