Revising the revision process

So, here’s what I’ve been working on lately.

Magazine articles. Editing projects. A middle grade manuscript-in-progress. But mainly, I’ve been revising.

My MG girl-and-golem-fight-antisemitism story that won the Sydney Taylor Manuscript Award also won a partial grant from PJ Library, and I’ve been making changes based on some of the feedback I got. The PJ Library folks have already helped me more than they realized—they asked that I submit an edited version using Track Changes in Word.

The thing is, I love Track Changes. I use it all the time as an editor. But never once did it occur to me to use it when editing my own work. Honestly? It’s a game-changer.

Making changes, deleting blocks of text, or even changing individual words can feel intimidating when it’s just words on a screen. What if I change my mind? What if my computer crashes and I forget where I was? The changes feel so permanent, even if (obviously) they’re not.

With Track Changes, I can see instantly what I’ve changed and where, and if I need to undo something, I can. Using it, I think like an editor, not a writer, and it’s freed me to look at the manuscript in a different way. I’ve made changes I never would’ve thought to make before, revamping or deleting entire scenes. (Though somehow the word count still grew. Sigh.)

I don’t know if this is the version that gets published, but I know it’s a stronger, more cohesive story than it was before, and even the previous version was strong enough to win two different work-in-progress awards. So I’ll see where this version takes me. But seriously, fellow writers, try using Track Changes if you aren’t already. The real writing is in the revising.

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It’s been a scary and sad year for many reasons, and Oct. 7 is coming up. Your Jewish friends are not okay. I’m not asking anyone to state their stance on (any aspect of) the war. All I ask is that people remember what a complex, traumatizing, long-running, maddening topic this is for so many of us, and to be respectful of that. Hoping for better times ahead for everyone.

My Q&A with Super Copy Editors

Super Copy Editors is where I do a fair amount of my freelance work—it’s a great company, and founder Dave Baker is a pleasure to work with. He interviews one team member every month for the company newsletter, and I enjoyed the interview so much I requested to share it. So here it is, for your reading pleasure. Have a lovely week.

In person, again

I thought I’d remembered everything about in-person writers’ conferences. Bring a scarf or wrap. Wear comfortable shoes. Bring a notepad and pen for when you get good advice or when inspiration strikes. Caffeinate regularly. But nope, I forgot that the air conditioning would also be intense enough to affect my feet. I spent half the day thinking sandals, ugh, where are my sneakers? Listen, it’s been a few years.

I’ve spent most of this year feeling like we were finally easing back into something more or less resembling regular life. We restarted our annual Super Bowl party. I started leaving the house without a mask in my bag. We hung around older family members without worrying about anyone’s exposure levels. And NJ SCBWI held an in-person conference again.

I’m glad there are more virtual options out there now for conferences, workshops, and webinars. They’re a lifeline for people who can’t travel, who need disability accommodations, or who are immunocompromised. But I never feel fully connected to people through a screen. I’m the sort of introvert who works best in one-on-one interactions, where I can see the other person’s face and hear their voice. Without that, I feel like I’m missing vital information. With that—well, every writer friend I have is someone I met at a conference or other event. One of those friends led me to my critique group. I’ve gotten editing work through writer friends, I’ve gotten feedback that helped me improve my own work, and I hope I’ve helped other people improve theirs. More intangibly, I’ve developed a sense of belonging. When I walked into the conference building, I saw people I knew, people I hadn’t seen in person in years. It felt like a homecoming. And that alone was worth the price of admission.

So thanks to NJ SCBWI for putting the event together (standouts for me: Andrea Loney’s “Creator Care” presentation and Yvonne Ventresca’s workshop on revision tools and techniques), and thanks to Montclair University for hosting. I was really grateful to be around my fellow creatives again. Even with cold feet.

(But please keep the coffee coming next time! I really do caffeinate continuously.)

All the new things

I hate to be one of those people who starts off a post with “This is why I haven’t been blogging lately,” but … this is why I haven’t been blogging lately: I recently switched from freelance back to full-time. I’m editing for a company that supplies web content to software development companies. It’s been a really nice adjustment, but it has been an adjustment.

In the meantime, my fiction is now featured in three anthologies! The current release, “Clearing the Field,” is in “Stories We Tell After Midnight Volume 3.” It’s about a young Jewish ballplayer who finds a way to fight back against the spectral Nazis haunting her baseball field—which was previously the site of an American Nazi camp. The anthology was released just in time for Halloween, but hey, horror is year-round.

Also out is “In His Name” in “Strange Fire: Jewish Voices from the Pandemic,” about a young woman’s attempt to outwit the Angel of Death and save her dying father, only to discover that you can save someone and lose them at the same time.

And preorders are up for “Dark Cheer: Cryptids Emerging”: Volume Blue is out in December, and my volume (Silver) is out in February. “Leviathan” is a modern-day retelling of the Biblical legend of the Leviathan—the king of the seas—mixed with a dash of “The Fisherman’s Wife.”

I also recently had the pleasure of attending the Rutgers University Council on Children’s Literature One-on-One Conference, which is application-only and competition is fierce. I got some great feedback on my MG girl-and-golem-fight-antisemitism novel, so I’m hopeful for the next round of queries.

(I will also be so much happier when events like this can be in person again. I miss my writer friends! I hate how I look on Zoom! The cat tries to break into my office!)

Everyone in this house is now vaccinated, and I hope you are too. Hoping you have a close-to-normal Thanksgiving, and if you also celebrate Hanukkah, hoping you squeeze in enough shopping time because argh, it’s early this year.

Submitting to anthologies

Here’s how I see anthology calls for submissions: They’re cool writing prompts that could lead to publication. Sometimes this works out, sometimes it doesn’t. The story I submitted to “Strange Fire: Jewish Voices from the Pandemic” got accepted (and the anthology is out this month!). Stories I’ve written for consideration in other anthologies have gotten rejected, and I’ve been researching magazines/other publications to send them (some sources I like: The Submission Grinder, Erica Verrillo’s Publishing … and Other Forms of Insanity blog).

But sometimes the stars align and an already-written story fits what an anthology editor wants. For instance, my story that just got accepted for “Dark Cheer: Cryptids Emerging,” out in 2022 (preorder link to come when it’s available). So you never know. But I’m pretty happy about both of these acceptances.

The same goes for contest submissions. I didn’t advance in this year’s NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge, but I did end up with a fun sci-fi rom-com story that I hope to find a home for.

If you’re willing to accept the risk of your story getting rejected—which is kind of a requirement for being a writer—then writing for anthologies or contests can be a good part of an overall submission strategy. Good luck and have a creative week.

Little wins and big wins

I did the final proofread on a short story of mine that’s being published in an anthology. I lost a regular writing/editing gig, since the one remaining newspaper I freelanced for is shutting down. I sent out new queries to magazines on short stories and to agents on my novel, and got some encouraging rejection letters. It’s been an up-and-down couple of weeks.

But that’s the creative life, whether you’re writing for pay or writing for the love of it (ideally both?). Up, down, forward, back. Be happy at the good news, roll your eyes at the bad news, keep going.

Any success this past year is worth celebrating. Any ability to achieve anything close to normal is worth celebrating. Listen, I just got my first haircut in a year and a half. The little wins are big right now.

So I hope you’re achieving little and big wins, and you’re being as creative as you’re able to under the circumstances. And I hope you’re able to get vaccinated (I’m Team J&J, how about you?) so we can get past this thing once and for all. It’s getting warmer out, and I’d like to be someplace besides my back yard.

Congratulations on whatever wins you achieve this spring.

Common rules of editing

As part of my day job, I edit everything from novel manuscripts to news stories to healthcare content to nonprofit papers. Yes, I do like the variety. But there are some common rules that I rely on, no matter what type of work I’m editing. Here are a few:

  1. It’s not my byline. My name won’t be appearing on top of the article, on the cover page of the book, etc. This isn’t my work, I don’t own it. Ultimately, my job is to best serve the writer. My ego has no place in the process.
  2. Use the writer’s voice. Everyone, if they’ve been writing long enough, has a “stable” of words and phrases they use regularly. They tend to use commas in a certain way, or love to throw in the occasional em dash. Their sentences are long and flowing, short and powerful, or somewhere in between. If I tweak or rewrite something, I make sure to use words the writer would use, or structure the sentence the way they would. I keep it in the writer’s voice.
  3. Add compliments. Creative people are a neurotic, insecure bunch and everyone has imposter syndrome. (Including me.) The tendency when editing is to focus only on what needs fixing, but that can come off as too negative. If a joke works, a line of description is especially lyrical, or there’s really good information shared in a clear way, I make sure to note that. People deserve to feel good about their work.
  4. Stay open to suggestions. The writer’s suggested rewrite might be better than mine. And that’s fine by me.
  5. Be prepared to explain myself. At various publications, I’ve worked with writers who shrugged at whatever changes I wanted to make, saying “I trust you.” I’ve also worked with writers who challenged everything I marked on their articles. Sometimes my explanation satisfied them; sometimes they asked for a different change instead. But if I couldn’t justify the changes I wanted to make, did I have any right to make them? The writers were trying to have some say in the final version of their work. (See rule #1.)
  6. Look everything up. I work with the Associated Press Stylebook, the Chicago Manual of Style, and whatever individual house styles different publications use. That’s a lot of different style guides, some of which contradict each other. (Do I use serial commas this time? Are there spaces around the em dashes or not?) It’s not possible to keep all of that in my head, so I don’t try. Editors and copy editors are more likely to get into trouble when they think, “I know this,” and don’t check to make sure they’re right.
  7. I don’t represent all readers everywhere. I might not be the target market for the work. That doesn’t mean the work should be written to appeal to me personally. That means I need to keep in mind who the target readers are, and edit accordingly. And if that means I need to look up something I don’t know, well, looking things up is my job.

It all comes down to the Golden Rule of editing: Treat the writer the way you would want to be treated as a writer. And that rule has worked well for me.

What we’ve accomplished

President-elect Joe Biden has won the election for approximately the 473897328763287643th time, front-line workers are starting to get vaccinated, snowpocalypse is coming tomorrow. Already it’s quite the week.

For Hanukkah, we did a chilly outdoor get-together with my parents, chatting behind masks until the wind was too much. For Christmas, we’re doing nothing. My in-laws live too far away, outdoors isn’t an option, staying there isn’t safe. It would’ve been nice for the kids to see their grandmother since they lost their grandfather to cancer in April, but that would’ve required more people (not to mention our leaders) to follow virus restrictions this year, wear masks, care about other people instead of blah blah blah freedom, so here we are.

If I sound angry and frustrated, that’s because I am. Those “we’re all in this together” ads have never been true, not once.

Still, those of us who are still here have managed to survive the pandemic and the horrific political climate of the past few years, and that’s an accomplishment.

If you’ve managed to create anything during this year, that’s an accomplishment, too.

In between rounds of edits on my middle grade manuscript, I started writing short stories again. One was published in Daily Science Fiction. Another will be published in an anthology called “Strange Fire: Jewish Voices from the Pandemic,” out next year. A third is waiting in a submission queue (argh).

I haven’t found an agent yet for my kidlit work, but I’m ending the year with two middle grade manuscripts that are stronger than they were in January.

I worked with some wonderful author clients this year on their manuscripts, including one for the second time. My coaching client got another article posted. And I picked up some new freelance writing work.

What about you? Did you create something? Did you make a sourdough loaf? Did you keep your household going despite all odds? All successes. We’re still in the tunnel, but there’s a light at the end of it.

So whatever you celebrate, have a happy, safe, quiet holiday. If you need an editor in the coming year, please do reach out. And go easy on yourself. You’re surviving a pandemic. You’re doing fine.

Remember it’s subjective

Here’s where the day job is at (AKA, the newspaper/magazine writing): I heard from one editor who’s happy with my work. Then I heard from another editor who doesn’t like my work and wants changes.

And *shrugs* that’s how it goes.

Different people are going to react differently to your work. Some will love it, some will hate it, some will go “meh.” When it’s an article, or some other type of work-for-hire, well, revisions are part of the deal (which is why I’m revising). When it’s your own work — say, your novel — you’ve got a bit more leeway in how you respond to those reactions.

But here’s the key: These opinions will vary by person. This is why literary agents usually have a line about “this industry is subjective” in their rejection letters. A manuscript that leaves them feeling “meh” might completely wow the next person to read it. You are the same person, and your work is the same work, no matter who’s reading it. You can’t control the other person’s reaction.

I’m not saying writers (or artists) need to toughen up, or grow a thicker skin, or whatever other figures of speech are floating around. But it is useful to take someone’s reaction, positive or negative, and evaluate it to see if there’s anything you can learn from it. If so, then go ahead and use that feedback. If not? You’re entitled to nod politely and move on.

Your opinion of your work, in other words, should exist a little apart from the opinions of others. And it should sustain you on the negative days.

Lining up dominoes

I recently finished another round of revisions on one of my middle grade manuscripts. I extended a few scenes, cut a few others, and changed small but significant details about the protagonist’s background. Going through the process was a good reminder: the key to revising is revising consistently, throughout the story.

Changing where my protagonist lived, for instance, meant checking every reference to his childhood home to make sure it was still accurate. And it meant thinking through the repercussions of that change. How would this have affected his childhood? How did this change the dynamic between his parents? Did this change mean other changes were needed, too?

It’s the domino effect of storytelling. (Or the butterfly effect, if you like that better.) Every action impacts other actions, ultimately changing the story overall. The hard part about revising isn’t making changes; it’s keeping those changes consistent with each other, and with what was already on the page.

In the middle of revising something? Not sure how to go about it? Think of a line of dominoes. If everything is properly aligned, all the details will fall into place, and so will the story.