Editing Your Work

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APPRECIATING YOUR LEFT BRAIN

As discussed in previous chapters, the right brain puts things together in a non-linear way. Its knowledge is gained through images rather than words. It can process many kinds of information simultaneously and make great leaps of insight. It understands metaphor, creates dreams and fantasies, wonders ‘What if … ?’ Such abilities generally receive less encouragement in the worlds of school and work than those which the left brain offers, e.g. logic, mathematical precision, ability to label accurately, order, neatness. One of the main aims of this book is to redress that particular imbalance.

However, this is not to suggest that the right brain is superior to the left brain. On the contrary, they complement each other in most activities. In fact after the age of five when specialisation of the hemispheres is complete, one cannot function efficiently without the other. A writer certainly could not function without access to the specialist activities of the left brain. It controls speech, reading, and writing. It recalls information and knows how to spell. As discussed in Chapter 9, the essential crafting and editing skills of analysing, sorting, selecting and sequencing are mainly left-brain activities.

The ideal is to get the two sides of the brain working in harmony, each supporting the other, doing what it does best while not getting in the other’s way. The LiteraryMachine is a software program which claims to help with this process by providing ‘an idea management tool aimed at creative thinking – built especially with the writer in mind’. (See page 166.)

The dynamics of your particular left brain/right brain partnership can be observed by returning to the hand exploration exercise in Chapter 2. How did the two hands react to each other when you first did it?

• Try the exercise again. Compare the results. Does either side of the partnership need encouragement? Is some negotiation needed? How do you feel about each side? Does your attitude need some adjustment?

A good working relationship between both hemispheres will make the strongly left-brain task of editing less daunting. Although the two hemispheres work together on most activities, their way of processing information differs. The extent to which they are involved at a given time depends on the particular task. Peter Vincent gave me an invaluable piece of advice. Never write and edit at the same sitting. He told me that when he starts work on a script he lets the ideas, however off-the-wall, flow from his right brain unimpeded. ‘Anything can seem funny at this stage,’ he says. At the end of several days writing he welcomes the good sense of his left brain which steps in to sort out what will or will not work. Before Peter gave me this advice, I frequently found that the processes of creating and editing got in each other’s way and slowed my output down considerably. I found editing at a separate session so successful, that I organised my working week around it and now edit only on Fridays (plus the odd evening if a deadline is looming).

Confident handing over of the helm to the left brain in this way requires the services of a supportive rather than a censorious internal critic.

BEFRIENDING YOUR CRITIC

In The Creative Fire, Clarissa Pinkola Estes uses the story of the brave dog Gelert (after whom the Welsh village Beddgelert is named) as a metaphor for the misguided critical process. Gelert, the King’s favourite dog, is found covered in blood beside the upturned cradle of the baby prince. Thinking the dog has slain the child, the king kills him. He then finds the child unharmed beneath the cradle, next to the body of the wolf from which Gelert saved him. The wolf and the dog can be seen as aspects of our internal critic: the wolf a murderous aspect that wants to destroy the products of our creativity, the dog an ally, who wants to serve us and our creations.

Trauma, conditioning and poor judgement can lead us to mistrust the dog and side with the wolf. Successful editing requires us to believe in the dog and to tame the wolf so that its power is harnessed for our purposes. As with the left and right brain, we can then develop a productive working partnership. The ultimate aim is to integrate and work with all aspects of ourselves in this way. A good starting point is to get to know both sides of the critic better through guided visualisation. This will work best if done in relation to a current piece of work which is at the editing stage.

– EXERCISES –

Guided visualisation: Getting to know your internal critic

Close your eyes and focus on a current piece of writing. Which parts of it please you? Which parts of it are giving you trouble? What difficulties are you experiencing? Be as specific as possible.

Allow an image of your helpful internal critic to come to mind.

When you have a clear image, give it a name.

What sort of voice does your helpful critic have? What sort of things does this critic normally say? How do you feel about this?

Ask this critic to say what they think about your current work. What do they think about the parts you like? What advice can they offer about your difficulties?

Allow this image to fade. Allow an image of your negative critic to come to mind.

When you have a clear image, give this negative critic a name.

What is this critic’s voice like? What sort of things does this critic normally say? How do you feel about this?

Ask this critic to comment on your current work – its good points and bad points. Has this critic got any advice to offer?

Allow this image to fade, and spend some time reflecting on the experience.

Which critic are you more inclined to believe? Which one do you like best? Which do you find more helpful? Will you act on the advice given by either?

In a few moments you are going to bring these two critics together. Is this likely to cause a problem? If so, you could call on the mediating skills of a talisman, tarot character or other helper.

Allow these two critics to meet each other now. Encourage each to say what they see as each other’s good and bad points. What concessions are they prepared to make in order to be able to work together?

Ask the two critics to discuss your current work. What changes would each one make? What arguments does each give regarding the other’s changes? Allow plenty of time for this discussion to develop and join in when you wish to.

Before you draw this discussion to a close, ask each of the critics what they need from you in order to be able to work in partnership.

Thank them both for their help, return and make any notes you need to make.

Checklist

• Right-brain thinking is not superior to left brain thinking. It is just different. We need to be aware of the specific skills of each side.
• Right brain and left brain work in partnership. We need to enable this process by recognising the contribution of each one.
• Our critic is often very useful at the editing stage. Fostering its positive aspects will make this process more productive.

PLAYING THE EDITING GAME

The suggestion that editing can be seen as a game is made partly to reduce anxiety in strongly right-brained writers, and partly to draw attention to the capricious nature of editing requirements. Unless you are in the position of being able to follow Polonius’ dictate, ‘This above all: to thine own self be true,’ editing criteria will vary according to market, genre, and current taste. One editor will like your style but not your story-line, another the reverse. For one magazine your story is too long, for another too short, for another it is just right, but the heroine is too old – and so on.

Below are listed ten aspects of your work which will require scrutiny whatever your current criteria. Some general questions are asked under each aspect. As a focusing exercise, make this into an ‘Editing 10 x 10’ by adding more questions to suit your particular requirements.

1. The beginning

• Does it really grab the reader’s attention? (If not, you could lose your audience altogether.)
• Does it intrigue, shock, strike a chord, plunge the reader straight into the action? (See Chapter 5.)
• Does it make you want to read on?
• Is the ‘implicit contract’ it makes with the reader a valid one? (See Chapter 5.)
• Have you read the beginning aloud to anyone and asked for their feedback?

2. Characters

• Have you brought them to life? Will the readers feel they know these people and will they care what happens to them? (See Chapters 2, 4 and 6.)
• Are your characters authentic? Do their descriptions ‘ring true’? Are clothes, speech patterns and cultural references right for the period and location?
• Is their behaviour consistent with their personalities? Is their appearance consistent? In longer works, continuity of costume and hair colour/style may need to be checked. A story-board is helpful in this respect. (See Chapter 9.)
• Do any elements of your characterisation need more emphasis? Have you asked anyone for feedback about this?

3. Setting

• Have you given the reader a clear picture of the surroundings?
• Have you done your research thoroughly? Are clothing, architecture, artefacts, cultural references, in keeping with the historical period?
• Have you checked continuity in this respect? Again, a story-board can be useful for this purpose.
• Have you conveyed the atmosphere you intended to convey?

4. Plot

• Is the story line absolutely clear?
• Could it be set out in narrative steps as in Chapter 8 or could you plot it on a route map, as in Chapter 9?
• Were any ‘added complications’ fruitful, or were they just ‘clever sidetracks’ which diverted attention from the main thrust of the story?

In the example given in Chapter 8, Cinderella languishes in a dungeon while the prince, ignorant of her plight, is far away fighting. The reader has the overview, which creates dramatic tension.

This path has many possibilities, e.g. having received no word from the beautiful stranger, the prince concludes she does not care for him. Eschewing love, he agrees to a politically sound marriage with a princess from a neighbouring kingdom. As the day of the marriage draws near, Cinderella tries to send the glass slipper to him but the ugly sisters intercept it. This all adds to the story’s emotional impact. If the Prince had gone off to war and Cinderella had gone home and worried about him for a year or so, this would be a side-track. Other than a chance to reveal the strength of Cinderella’s love, it would serve no dramatic function. In fact it would confuse the plot and destroy the story’s momentum.

5. Story-telling vehicles

• Have you chosen the best way to tell your story?
• Have you used straight narrative throughout, or have you interspersed this with flash-back, dream-sequences, letters and other devices? What were the reasons for these choices – and were they valid? (See Chapter 9.)
• What tense have you chosen and whose viewpoint have you used? Do you have sound reasons for these choices? Might other choices be more effective?
• Have you used dialogue as a story-telling vehicle? What were your reasons for doing so? Was it always a good choice? (See Chapter 9.)

6. Dialogue

• Is your dialogue realistic?
• Is it authentic?
• Is your dialogue consistent with the characters’ historical period, geographical origins, and social class?
• Is it distinctive? Could only that character have made that particular speech?
• Have you read your dialogue aloud? How does it sound?
• Have you checked that every piece of dialogue you have written performs at least one of the following functions:

1. conveys essential information
2. moves the story forward
3. reveals the character and mood of the person who is speaking
4. establishes the relationship between characters.

7. Feelings

‘Proper structure occurs when the right things happen at the right time to create maximum emotion.’

(Michael Hauge: Writing Screenplays that Sell)

It is also important to remember that these ‘right things’ must happen to people and that these must be people about whom the audience cares. Casualty and Holby City are watched avidly by millions, not because they are about hospitals but because they are about people in crisis.

• How heart-rending or heart-warming is your story?
• Could your characterisation benefit from some fine-tuning to help the audience care a little more?
• Are the ‘right things happening at the right time’ – or are changes needed?

8. Pace

• Do any passages interfere with the pace you intended? Have you read any doubtful passages aloud?
• Have you checked sentence length, use of punctuation, use of active or passive voice and of present participles?
• Have you checked the number of images and their speed of presentation? Are these appropriate?
• Have you checked the lengths of the sounds involved in speaking the words? (See Chapter 4.)

9. Style

‘You don’t have to consciously cultivate a style. Just learn to write well and your style will emerge …If you peer too closely at your style you will end up parodying yourself. Your writing voice must flow from you naturally, just as your conversational voice does.’

(Gary Provost: Make Your Words Work)

• Have you ‘tuned in’, as suggested in Chapter 9? Returning to the exercises in Chapter 2 before dealing with any ‘iffy’ passages will pay great dividends.
• Are there any elements of ‘stylism’? Does style sometimes take precedence over clarity? (See Chapter 9.) Describe your style.
• Have you used too many adjectives? Have you used too few?
• Have you engaged in any stylistic ‘hanky-panky … just for the fun of it?’ (See Chapter 9.) If so – was it fun?

10. The end

• How effective is it?
• Is it satisfying – or does it leave the reader feeling stranded and/or disappointed?
• Is it active or reflective?
• Is there a link with the beginning, which brings the story full circle?
• Does it round the story off, make you cry, make you shudder?
• Can you improve it? (See Chapter 5.)

THE END – NO, REALLY …

How much tweaking do you – or can you – do? Knowing when to finish editing is as important as knowing the best way to finish your story, and can be just as much of a problem. Visual artist friends say this is a familiar dilemma for them – there always seems to be another brush stroke or bit of sanding or chiselling you could do. At some point you have to say ‘enough’ and bring the re-working to an end. In No Plot – No Problem, Chris Baty speaks of ‘the most awesome catalyst that has ever been unleashed on the worlds of art and commerce … a deadline’. As we have discussed in previous chapters, a time limit can indeed focus the mind and speed up production. I have found it also helps with the problem of when to ‘walk away’. If I am not restricted by a deadline, I often impose one and bring my rewrites to an end when the time is up – as it is now.