Tag Archives: editing

Solo or Ensemble?

Many forms of art can be practiced either solo or in a creative ensemble. A pianist can play piano solo, in a trio, or in an orchestra. Dancers can dance solo, as a couple, or in a group, as can singers. However, some forms of art, like fine art painting, sculpture, and the like, are usually solo efforts. Movies, TV shows, and plays on the other hand are almost always ensemble creations. So where does writing fit in?

Traditionally published books can be said to be ensemble work since traditionally published books go through an extensive development process, which these days, may start with re-writes requested by the agent even before the work is offered to publishers. Once the book is purchased by a publisher, a team of editors, artists, designers, and publicists , go to work to make the work as commercially appealing as possible.

Because all these publishing house contributions are anonymous, it is hard to say how much of the final shape of the story they have contributed, but judging from the praise authors often give to their agents and editors, (which I’m certain is not a symptom of Stockholm Syndrome) as well as a page or two worth of credit to others who have helped them write the work, one has to wonder just how much of the initial form and words of the story end up on the cutting room floor. Indeed, one gets the impression that if publishing was like music, the book cover would read “Author X and the Z Publishing House Book Staff.”

Which brings us around to self-publishing. One would think that the name itself – self-publishing – would tell you what’s going on in this type of publishing. I suspect that once upon a time, it was actually a true description. Those days may be long gone. My impression is that a more accurate term these days would be “self-financed publishing,” since it seems that a traditional publishing mindset is taking hold in the self-publishing world. While I am sure that self-publishing authors have long sought feedback from other people, and the assurance that they wouldn’t be making a fool of themselves if they published their story, these days it seems that self-publishing authors are expected to employ as many professionals as they can afford to publish their work. All of which makes the only difference between traditional publishing and self-publishing being who pays the wages of all the various professionals involved in producing the book, even as traditional publishers are shedding editors and other staff positions.

This trend annoys me in self-publishing. Especially the case for hiring developmental editors in self-published works. But on reflection, I believe that is because of my particular view of art, arising out of both as a painter and from my age. I started writing all of my published works after the age of 60, when I had read close to two thousand books and knew what I wanted in a story. Thinking about it however, I realize that for writers thirty or more years younger and less read than me, a case can be made for using editors to help these writers find their way, and in a lot less time than it took me.

That said, while I have no issues with writing as an ensemble art form, it simply isn’t my ideal of art. I view my stories like I do my paintings, which is to say a unique expression of me. I want to tell my story, my way. I think it works. I know from my experience in painting that all art finds its audience. The only question is how large of an audience it will find. In art, size doesn’t matter. While iIt does matter if we’re talking about creating a product, as art, no.

And by the same token, I embraced the whole process of “publishing.” As a painter, though not an illustrator, I could nevertheless produce some sort of cover. I also worked in the printing business, so I had an understanding of the requirements for print books. Where I lack the ability – I can’t spell and I’m far too careless and blind in proofreading – I found much-need help with volunteer beta readers. In addition, I’ve been exploring other options to help me produce better books, like adding on-line grammar checkers to my process. All of which is to say, I have pursued both my writings and my publishing, as solo art. And for the same reason – I want my art to be mine. And mine alone.

As I said at the top, I’m not against writing as an ensemble art. It may be necessary for commercial products, though with only a 33% success rate, and that 33% due in no small amount to the promotional budget of a book, one has to wonder just how essential certain aspects of it are. So for me, writing as a solo art is the most authentic form of writing. Which is why I love self-publishing.

Still, where do you guys land on this topic? Are you all in on the traditional publishing method, feeling that it produces a superior outcome? Or are you all in the do everything yourself camp? Or somewhere in the wish-y-washy middle? How much input do you need and use from other people to (re)shape your story? How much of the story do you think this input contributes? As someone who has the mindset that “here’s my work, warts and all, like it or lump it,” I’m curious to hear the viewpoint of writers who are perhaps more of a perfectionist than I am, or who are more open to embracing the cooperative approach, readily incorporating into their work the ideas of alpha, beta readers, and editors.

Failure’s Freedom

“If you ain’t got nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose.” Like a Rolling Stone – Bob Dylan

Those two lines from Like a Rolling Stone are an anthem for me. I sing them along with Bob every time the tune comes up in my “Liked Music” playlist. I love the insight into freedom they imply. I think they could, and should, be the anthem of the vast majority of author/indie publishers as well. Them’s that aren’t making money at it. With nothing to lose, we’ve the freedom to write exactly what we want to write, how we want to write it. In short, it allows us to;

“Be yourself, no matter what they say.” An Englishman in New York – Sting

Stories are art. They’re also a consumer product, so it’s understandable that we’re tempted to write the stories we think – or hope – readers will buy and enjoy. But if you’ve been publishing stories for any length of time, you know that discovery – merely giving potential readers the opportunity to choose to read your book – is an almost insurmountable barrier to finding readers, and thus, commercial success. So, given the near virtual certainty of commercial failure, unless you’re a social media celebrity or a well heeled and wily entrepreneur, we author/publishers can safely ignore commercial considerations and simply write stories that appeal to us. We can create pure art, art as a unique expression of our creativity, and then publish it for the rare reader who somehow stumbles upon it and appreciates our vision. Their numbers don’t count, though I should point out that every popular genre, sub-genre, trope, and story beat was once a unique and original expression of some author. We’ve nothing to lose by swinging for the fence.

I should also point out that author/publishers can be in a unique position in the publishing world, in that we can actually publish our undiluted vision. In traditional publishing, authors are not trusted to publish the books they write. Books in traditional publishing, and even in indie-publishing these days, if you listen to the experts, are ensemble creations, co-produced with the help of various editors who work to make it better than the writer’s original version. And since these books are definitely commercial products, “better” probably means more salable. Some, maybe even most authors, appreciate this help – in the various acknowledgments at the end of books, they often give a great deal of credit to their editor. Stockholm syndrome perhaps? But as an author/publisher we can, if we’re brave enough, publish our work in its pure form. We can be ourselves, no matter what – any editor – might say.

Still, you’re likely thinking, we must consider the readers. What readers? Well, to be less snarky, let me rephrase that to say that, we should trust readers. All we owe them is an honest blurb, a sample of our writing, and the best book we can write. We need not concern ourselves with their tastes and expectations. We needn’t worry if they’ll like it or not. If I learned one thing in art, it is that someone somewhere will always appreciate anything. There’ll be readers who will like any story we write. And if we write a book that pleases us, we can at least be certain it pleases someone. A bullet dodged.

Given the steep odds against any commercial success, it seems to me that following our unique vision, without compromise, is actually the wisest course to follow. With nothing to lose, why not?

Of course you all do that already, right?

Proofreading with Google Docs and Grammarly

I’m a sloppy writer. I simply transcribe the voice in my head, paying minimal attention to the words I’m typing. Being a lifelong touch typist, I can clip along, stopping only to correct all those red underlined misspellings. Moreover, I tend to read what I expect to read, so between these two characteristics, I can read my manuscript three to six times and still miss many double words, many missing little words, and never see the difference between where and were, or its and it’s. I need a copy editor. I need my wife. And my beta readers. And Google Docs and now, Grammarly.

I write in LibreOffice, which has a rudimentary grammar checking function – one that begins and ends at telling me when to use “a” and “an.” Several years ago, I discovered that Google Docs has a much better one, so I uploaded and ran all my books through Google Docs to clean them up a bit. For my newest novel, I decided to add the free version of Grammarly to my proofreading arsenal. So how does this system work? Can you rely on Google Docs or Grammarly, or both to do your proofreading for you?

Google Docs does a good job of finding double words, some wrong words, and most missing words. But not all, as I discovered when I uploaded the Google corrected copy to Grammarly. It is good for detecting the proper tense, but it doesn’t pay much attention to punctuation or spacing.

For Grammarly, I used the free web version to proofread my latest book after running it through Google Docs. I uploaded it chapter by chapter to be edited. Before Grammarly edits your work, you’re given several options to choose from to set the level and aim of Grammarly’s editing process. I chose “Expert” “Informal” and “Tell a story” as my guidelines. So how did Grammarly do?

First off, Grammarly loves compound words. Google Doc never mentioned them. Before, I never knew when to compound adjectives, so that I almost never did. But after Grammarly, I’m going to compound every damn pair, as it seems that anything and everything goes. I’m exaggerating, but it was a lesson in the use of compound words. Besides telling me to use all those hyphens, I’d say 75% of the suggested edits involved adding or subtracting commas. I made the lazy editorial decision just to go along with Grammarly on commas, it should know, right? Before, I put them in places that I knew they belonged and when the voice in my head paused, and where I think the auto-narrator of my books should pause as well. However, Grammarly not only put in more of them, but I think it eliminated commas that my wife thinks should’ve been there. Though to be fair, while I believe that I would’ve also put in the missing ones – they were places that I would’ve put them – I can’t swear that I did actually have them there before Grammarly removed them. Grammarly also found more missing words, and corrected the wrong words, i.e. where instead of were, et al that Google Doc missed. So it was a plus, overall.

Grammarly also offered several suggestions for phases that it thought were too wordy. I ignored those suggestions. Given free reign, I’ve a feeling that Grammarly would strip creative writers of their authorial voice. Thus, my readers will read a few extra words, like it or lump it. It also would occasionally tease its premium service, telling me of two hundred ways it could make my chapter less wordy and confusing, if I paid them. The whole experience, however, was easy. You just click a button to make the suggested changes you approve of, so that it didn’t take me more than two hours to go through a 105K novel. However, you can, and should be fussier than I was. Lesson learned.

I was confident that when I handed this Google Doc & Grammarly proofread ms over to my wife, it would be a clean copy. It wasn’t. There was that question of missing commas, which can easily be addressed in the future, but both services also didn’t catch a few missing word – those little “to”s and “the”s – and neither made any objections to the semicolons I used, which my wife, a stickler for semicolons, objected to.

Note; for example, I’m editing this in Google Docs, and it underlined in red “semi-colon” just now, and suggested “semicolon,” but it didn’t object to the “semi-colon” when it appeared in the line above. These are the inconsistencies that make the Google Doc less than perfect for proofreading.)

Anyway, the semicolon issue can be fixed by going back to always using em-dashes for everything, like I have in the past.

So, looking at the big picture, when I started writing, my wife would find half a dozen or more typos and errors on every page. I’ve gotten more mindful over the last decade, so that now, together with Doc and Grammarly, there can be two, three, four pages without a single error, and most of those errors involve commas this time around. Which is to say, I’ve seen a significant improvement in the process. And knowing all the errors I corrected in Google Docs and Grammarly, I have to give a lot of that credit to Docs and Grammarly.

So, is it worthwhile to upload your ms to Google Docs, or upload it to Grammarly, or use both, seeing that neither are perfect?

The first thing to remember is that both services are free. You can’t beat the price, especially if you’re considering hiring a proofreader or editor. You have no way of knowing if that professional editor is simply using Grammarly Pro to do their work for them. I don’t think human proofreaders guaranteed their work to be error free or your money back. Given this, it would seem to me to be time well spent doing your own proofreading with the help of these two free programs. And if you want more of an editor than a simple proofreader, it might be well worth spending a little money on a month of Grammarly premium to see all those hundreds of suggestions it has to improve your writing instead of big bucks on a professional editor. All in all, I think that the free version is good enough for most of us, especially if you’re better at proofreading than I. It could simply serve as a quick quality check, and perhaps a tutorial on the use of commas and compound words.

Bottom line; you get more than what you pay for. They’re not quite good enough to produce a perfectly clean copy all by themselves, but they certainly can save a lot of time in the proofreading process.