HOW DO YOU KNOW WHEN YOU’RE FINISHED YOUR NOVEL?
Take a deep breath. You think you’ve completed eight redrafts, but more likely, you’ve lost count. How do you know when to stop redrafting to please yourself or your last reader?
Your best friend and your mother agree. The novel is fabulous. After all, what else are they going to say?
Maybe it’s time to submit the novel to all the New York agencies. Undoubtedly, there will be calls from all of them. Maybe you can arrange a bidding war? Believe me, I am embarrassed to admit, that those thoughts went through my head, in the beginning.
Perhaps, it’s time for a reality check. I read somewhere that one percent of all manuscripts submitted to the traditional publishing world ever sees the light of day. That’s better than the lottery, but they are not promising odds!
Have you thought of hiring an editor? I was fortunate enough, in the very early stages of writing Conduct in Question, the first in The Osgoode Trilogy, to hire an excellent one, who was gentle and encouraging. She also knew her stuff!
Aside from the cost of this investment in your work, what stands in your way? For me, it was pride. Naturally one wants to take pride in one’s work; however, I’m talking about false pride. That’s the angry voice inside you that says at the first word of criticism—what does he know?—she doesn’t “get it”—I’m not changing a thing, because it’s my book!
You may have read another article I wrote about the “third eye.” That’s the ability of an author to stand back from his work and gain some objectivity, and to see the work as a whole. Probably, at this stage, you’re mentally still in the underbrush and certainly cannot see the forest for each beautiful tree you’ve nursed. That’s where an editor comes in. He or she can give you that third eye and if that editor is really good, she can cut away the underbrush and help you and make the work shine!
There are many lessons to be learned in working with an editor—humility is the first and foremost. But if he or she is willing to take time with you, it can be most instructive. In the process, you will learn how your work affects a reader. You will learn how to create not only good plots, characters, and descriptions, but how to build in your reader the desired emotional responses to them. It is not because the editor tells you how, but you learn by getting a thorough and “up-close” reaction to your work.
But where do you draw the line? Where and when do you say—this is my book and not yours? I’ll give you an example. When I wrote Conduct in Question, I created a character called the Florist, a sadistic killer with an artistic flair. To me he was fascinating study in evil; however, he was not the focus of the book. The focus was the protagonist, Harry Jenkins, a Toronto lawyer. For me, the whole point of the story throughout that novel and the subsequent two, Final Paradox and A Trial of One, in The Osgoode Trilogy, was the growth of Harry from a tentative, indecisive soul to one who could live his life with new energy and conviction. And that growth took place because of all the murder and fraud I threw at him.
Then, an editor said that there should be far more of the Florist in the novel. He wanted more of the serial killer. To my way of thinking, there are too many novels about serial killers on the market. Why should mine compete with them? Besides, I was far more interested in the positive growth of Harry than the catching of yet another serial killer.
That is where I drew the line! I did refuse to change the novel to such a degree that it would turn into something quite different than what I had intended from the outset. And, I have never regretted that decision.
Take a look at the three novels in The Osgoode Trilogy, Conduct in Question, Final Paradox and A Trial of One and you’ll see how Harry Jenkins grows.
HOW DO YOU KNOW WHEN YOU’RE FINISHED YOUR NOVEL?
Take a deep breath. You think you’ve completed eight redrafts, but more likely, you’ve lost count. How do you know when to stop redrafting to please yourself or your last reader?
Your best friend and your mother agree. The novel is fabulous. After all, what else are they going to say?
Maybe it’s time to submit the novel to all the New York agencies. Undoubtedly, there will be calls from all of them. Maybe you can arrange a bidding war? Believe me, I am embarrassed to admit, that those thoughts went through my head, in the beginning.
Perhaps, it’s time for a reality check. I read somewhere that one percent of all manuscripts submitted to the traditional publishing world ever sees the light of day. That’s better than the lottery, but they are not promising odds!
Have you thought of hiring an editor? I was fortunate enough, in the very early stages of writing Conduct in Question, the first in The Osgoode Trilogy, to hire an excellent one, who was gentle and encouraging. She also knew her stuff!
Aside from the cost of this investment in your work, what stands in your way? For me, it was pride. Naturally one wants to take pride in one’s work; however, I’m talking about false pride. That’s the angry voice inside you that says at the first word of criticism—what does he know?—she doesn’t “get it”—I’m not changing a thing, because it’s my book!
You may have read another article I wrote about the “third eye.” That’s the ability of an author to stand back from his work and gain some objectivity, and to see the work as a whole. Probably, at this stage, you’re mentally still in the underbrush and certainly cannot see the forest for each beautiful tree you’ve nursed. That’s where an editor comes in. He or she can give you that third eye and if that editor is really good, she can cut away the underbrush and help you and make the work shine!
There are many lessons to be learned in working with an editor—humility is the first and foremost. But if he or she is willing to take time with you, it can be most instructive. In the process, you will learn how your work affects a reader. You will learn how to create not only good plots, characters, and descriptions, but how to build in your reader the desired emotional responses to them. It is not because the editor tells you how, but you learn by getting a thorough and “up-close” reaction to your work.
But where do you draw the line? Where and when do you say—this is my book and not yours? I’ll give you an example. When I wrote Conduct in Question, I created a character called the Florist, a sadistic killer with an artistic flair. To me he was fascinating study in evil; however, he was not the focus of the book. The focus was the protagonist, Harry Jenkins, a Toronto lawyer. For me, the whole point of the story throughout that novel and the subsequent two, Final Paradox and A Trial of One, in The Osgoode Trilogy, was the growth of Harry from a tentative, indecisive soul to one who could live his life with new energy and conviction. And that growth took place because of all the murder and fraud I threw at him.
Then, an editor said that there should be far more of the Florist in the novel. He wanted more of the serial killer. To my way of thinking, there are too many novels about serial killers on the market. Why should mine compete with them? Besides, I was far more interested in the positive growth of Harry than the catching of yet another serial killer.
That is where I drew the line! I did refuse to change the novel to such a degree that it would turn into something quite different than what I had intended from the outset. And, I have never regretted that decision.
Take a look at the three novels in The Osgoode Trilogy, Conduct in Question, Final Paradox and A Trial of One and you’ll see how Harry Jenkins grows.
www.authorsden.com/maryemartin
www.theosgoodetrilogy.com
www.authorsden.com/maryemartin
