Dutton editor Julie Strauss-Gabel says the first thing that grabbed her attention about Lauren Myracle's Eleven, was its strong voice. Though Strauss-Gabel came to the project late (the editor who acquired the manuscript and worked on early revisions had moved to another publishing house), she acknowledged that Eleven would certainly have caught her eye from the start. Discussing the strengths of the story, Strauss-Gabel said, "Lauren really knew her main character. Winnie was flamboyant and had a great sense of self." "Totally DEAD ON" is how Strauss-Gabel described the character relationships. "The dialogue and rhythms between them took me right back to sixth grade (a sometimes very scary place to be!)."
Myracle had already cut two chapters, added two chapters, worked on the sibling relationships, fleshed out a couple characters, and adjusted the main characters attitudes. Building on the revision that had already been done, Myracle and Strauss-Gabel worked together to further define the "emotional argument" of the story, addressing the plot as it served the emotions of the story and moving some events to create a stronger emotional arc. The shifting friendships, so typical of eleven year olds, also had to be demonstrated earlier and stronger. The revisions involved a new chapter, omitting another chapter, moving other events around, and strengthening the time line to better hold together the episodic nature of the story.
Myracle responded to the ongoing revisions process with interest and enthusiasm. Strauss-Gabel says, "A great reviser takes on the challenge of problem solving. The author says, ‘I accept that I need to play with this.'"
Strauss-Gabel and Myracle continue to build on their strong working relationship-including their ability to trust each other through the revision process-on future projects for Dutton.
Dori Hillestad Butler faced a hard revision. "One editor read through two drafts of my story, Trading Places with Tank Talbot. In the end, she didn't offer me a contract. Eventually, she just came right out and said the story didn't have enough layers and she didn't think it was possible to add layers in a revision. She felt they were either there to begin with or they weren't."
Notice that Butler, who has authored over fifteen other books, including Sliding Into Home (Peachtree, 2003), went through two revisions with this editor before receiving the blunt rejection. During those two revisions, there was great hope that a contract would result. Immense thought and effort had been put into those two revisions. And now, what did Butler have? An unsalable manuscript. According to the editor there wasn't even hope that she could add the needed layers.
Why should she revise? Why not just chunk the silly story and start with a new one?
According to Butler, that would have been a mistake. "I talked about the story with a friend who offered to read the manuscript. We talked about ways I could add layers to the story. It took me a while, but I eventually did another revision and sent it to another editor, who then bought it. The new editor said she especially liked the layers! Trading Places with Tank Talbott was published spring, 2004 by Albert Whitman."
"Revision isn't about tweaking sentences," Butler says. "It's about looking at your story as a whole and figuring out what works and what doesn't."
Re-visioning or seeing your story in a new way is a normal part of writing. Wendy Loggia, Executive Editor at Knopf Doubleday Dell Division of Random House Children's Books, says, "Revision is part of the process for every single book. Some may need one revision, some five or six."
Emily Easton, Publisher of Walker and Company Book for Young Readers, agrees. "Most projects need some kind of revision once accepted. It's very rare for something to come in perfect."
An editor's revision letter addresses what's wrong–the weaknesses– of a story; but what has to be right with the story to get to this stage? Editors won't take the time to send an editorial letter unless the story has potential. Loggia says, "It could be that the book has a great voice, but maybe the plot isn't fleshed out or has kinks that don't quite work. Or the story could have a terrific plot but the characters need to be fleshed out more and deepened."
For example, one manuscript came in to Loggia with a great voice and great writing. The drawback was the length: at 40-50 manuscript pages, it didn't fit into any specific format. Loggia said, "I asked the author to think about deepening the story and give the characters more plot to work with. The manuscript needed a story to go with the voice and character. Eventually, I bought the revised story which was over 100 manuscript pages."
As the publisher of Walker and Company, Easton says the answer varies depending on genre. "For a novel, the most important thing is that the author's voice must ring true. That's the most difficult thing to pull off. The characters need to be believable and three-dimensional. It's easier to fix plot points instead of characterization."
Picture books are slightly different, Easton says. "The language in a picture book has to really be lyrical and engaging. The pace has to be just right so there is the right flow between spreads and enough action for the illustrator to work with. Little tweaks in language or the ending can be fixed."
The only genre where the writing doesn't dominate the decision is non-fiction. "For non-fiction," Easton says, "we're more willing to take on something if we think there's a need for a book on this topic. We look carefully at the author's approach, how they intend to do research, and sample chapters."
Requiring revisions before offering a contract is often necessary from the publisher's point-of-view. Easton says, "It's hard to know if the author is capable of revising to the level needed. It's about building trust or faith in the author's abilities."
All this can make revisions worse than an audition. Editors expect you to write this particular manuscript up to their level of expectations, while also building trust in your abilities. Who can function under such pressure? Editors certainly don't mean to put writers under pressure; they are just trying to publish successful, well-written books.
Loggia, "The goal of revision is to make a better book, not to make the author pull his or her hair out."
Instead of an adversarial attitude, Mary Ann Rodman, author of Yankee Girl (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Spring 2004) and a forthcoming picture book, My Best Friend (Viking), has adopted a collaborative one. "I love revising. Really! Just as it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a village of editors, critique groups and other informed manuscript readers to bring a book to fruition. After others have read my story and suggested ways in which it could be stronger, I see my work in a different way. I feel revision always makes my work better, deeper."
An attitude of collaboration may sound a bit strange to some writers. After all, you sat alone in your basement and pounded out the words. Where were the editors when the page was blank? It is true that most first drafts are the result of one person. But bringing a book to market involves dozens of professionals, of which the writer and editor are just the first. Writing can be done alone; publishing can't.
Why can't an author see the needed changes for himself or herself? Why is collaboration needed? Loggia says, "When someone has worked on something for so long, they need to step back from it. Often, it's hard to be your own critic because you're too close to the work. It's also true that different readers give different perspectives. At Delacorte, we share manuscripts with other editors to get those different perspectives."
Easton says, "Any project is really a collaboration–to some degree–but the editor must believe in the book wholeheartedly and help the author craft the book and make it shine. You have to judge whether you see things the same way and understand each another. In some ways, it becomes a partnership."
When editors evaluate a manuscript with an eye toward writing a revision letter, the story may represent one of two general problems: it may need expansion or contraction. Butler's experience with Trading Places with Tank Talbott involved adding layers to the story. Expanding it meant adding both length and complexity with subplots, plot twists and complications, and making connections within the material already there.
On the other hand, Rodman says, "My first draft of anything really stinks. I overwrite like you wouldn't believe. I put in everything but the kitchen sink, just to keep moving forward. I never go back once I am moving forward. If I do think of something that needs to be in an earlier section, I stick it at the end and move it to where it belongs later." Her first draft is often three times the size of the final draft!
"Revisions serve two purposes for me," Rodman continues. "One is to weed out ‘the darlings,' those lovely little blind alleys of plot that I like to toss in just because I like them. In a revision, however, if they do not move the story along, out they go. Secondly, revision helps me to focus on the emotional heart of the story. Each revision is like fine tuning the adjustment of a microscope. With each twist of the knob, the field of vision becomes sharper, clearer. I find things I didn't know were there: images, relationships between characters, unexpected details. I polish these, add to them, connect them, and take everything deeper. This is the true joy of revision: finding buried treasure in the slag heap of a first draft."
Authors, then, can either write too long and need cutting, or too short and need layering. The editor doesn't know which of your first draft styles is represented by the manuscript in front of them because they don't know how many times you've revised before it reached them. They deal with the story you've sent in with a fresh eye. Often they ask for extensive revisions.
Butler says, "I think just about anything can be accomplished in a revision. A story starts with an idea, right? Through revision, that original idea can, and should, be twisted and turned and looked at from different angles. When you do that, you might see motivation that needs to be stronger, characters that need to be better developed, dialogue that doesn't ring true, plot that wanders, layers that need to be added, images and reversals that could reinforce themes."
Loggia typically writes about a four-page letter, though it varies greatly from manuscript to manuscript. "My process is trying to find holes that a reviewer, a reader, a kid, would notice. For example, I might mention that this character would never do that particular thing. We want the book to be strong and the best it can be."
For example, in editing Made you Look by Diane Roberts (Delacorte, 2003), Loggia said the book needed to see more of one character. In this funny middle-grade novel, a boy takes a trip with his family. "In the first draft, the best friend stayed home. I asked Diane if she could send the best friend on the trip to create opportunities for more funny interaction between them." The author immediately saw the possibilities and ran with the idea.
Easton usually writes a couple pages in her revisions letters, covering the major points. In addition, she makes notes in the margins of the manuscript for minor points. She's currently working with an author on a novel that had been cut almost in half over the course of four or five revisions. "It lost divergent plot points," she says," and some characters were eliminated. The story is more focused now, so it's real essence can come out."
Easton warns that when she edits a picture book, the first thing is cutting the text. "This is the most common problem," she says. "People overwrite them, like a short story. Picture books are different from a short story. Take out descriptions of things in art work. Look at pacing in the 32 page format. Every page turn moves the story along and text is evenly spread out throughout the book."
For nonfiction, Easton focuses on the organization and focus of the topic. "Are we answering all the questions someone will have on this topic. What's missing and needs to be more fully fleshed out? I try to keep the author on track and focused."
Editors warn, though, that following their revision letters can't solve all the problems of a story. Loggia says, "The editor doesn't hold the golden key to getting five star reviews. Everything the writer is doing must be because they believe it, too." One area in particular is hard to address in an editorial revision letter: depth and layers. Loggia admits, "It's hard to teach. I can't go back and tell someone how to build layers into their writing. It's something talented writers pick up from years of reading, writing, revising, reworking. I haven't found the key to helping someone do that."
Butler, as an author, is more optimistic about the ability to add layers and depth. "I think I added layers to Trading Places with Tank Talbott in my revision. My friend didn't let me get away with saying Jason simply couldn't put his face in the water. She insisted I come up with a reason why. That reason added a new layer to Jason's relationship with his sister, which then needed developing."
It seems that the editorial revision letter is just the beginning point for professional writers, who realize that they must address not just what the editor has identified, but also what is implied by these things. They must, as Rodman put it, "finding buried treasure in the slag heap of a first draft."
One interesting question is do certain things keep recurring in your revision letters? In other words, do revision letters consistently point out your strengths and weaknesses? Rodman says, "Yes. I have trouble with those meandering plot lines, replete with ‘darlings.' Once the darlings are gone, I have to build those bridges to get my characters from point A to point B. On the other hand, I am rarely asked to re-imagine or cut a character. Character development is one of my strengths."
Butler's experience is opposite and comes back to the idea of collaboration. "I've worked with different editors and it seems like each has his or her own style. I think the revisions I've done under contract have more to do with a particular editor's style than they do with my own strengths and weaknesses, which may vary from manuscript to manuscript. I believe each of my books would have turned out differently had they been edited by different editors. Another editor would have seen different things and asked for different revisions. I think a book is what it is not only because of me, but also because of the editor who worked on it with me."
"It can happen that a manuscript comes in close to perfect," Loggia says, "But it's not the norm. Writers need to be open to revision."
Easton says it's best to take your time. "Read the revision letter and think about it. You're very close to what you're writing and it's a personal experience. Every author feels they've done their best. But any trained reader (editor) can open your eyes to what you haven't been seeing. Take a deep breath and look at it with a fresh eye."
From the standpoint of a writer whose strength is character, Rodman suggests that you read your stories out loud as you revise. "If I stumble on something, that's a red flag to me that this isn't working. I also interview my characters. This works for me when I don't know why what is written doesn't work and I don't know how to fix it. Most of the time, if I ask, and then shut up and listen, the character will tell me."
Because she writes historical fiction, Rodman is also concerned about historical authenticity. "I ask myself at the end of every sentence, ‘Is this true to the time period? In detail? In language? In emotional truth?' I check and double check it all."
There's a word that keeps coming up: eventually. Eventually, I figured out what was wrong. Eventually, I revised the chapter. Eventually, I resubmitted. Eventually, I sold the story.
Revisions take time.
Butler says, "Don't rush your revision! I've let a couple of manuscript sit for more than a year because I just didn't know what to do next or I wasn't ready to work on them. I eventually figured out what needed to be done with each manuscript. Trading Places with Tank Talbott was accepted for publication by the first editor who saw it after I did that major revision that took me more than a year to figure out (and 7-8 editors had rejected the story before that). Obviously, I did something right in that revision."
Revision is much more than polishing your sentences. Dailogue, setting, characterization, plot, mood, tone, voice–all of these need to be addressed in a major re-visioning of a story.
Butler sums it up well: "I don't always like to revise but I think it's necessary. I think 90% of writing is rewriting. And probably 5% is prewriting. That doesn't leave much for the actual writing."
Writing a strong story is all about rewriting.