It’s Nice to Be Appreciated

This summer, I edited two books for Christopher Kaczor, professor of philosopy at Loyola Marymount University. The first book was on the ethics of abortion, and the second was a collection of essays about Ralph McInerny, recently deceased professor of philosophy for 54 years at the University of Notre Dame.

Both books had uncharacteristically short deadlines, which I managed to meet, while greatly enjoying the books as I edited.

Today, I received a testimonial from Chris, for use on my website. I have to admit, I’m delighted with the feedback, which I will now post on http://www.annaubrey.com.

“Working with tight time constrictions, Ann Hanson delivered both of my manuscripts with detailed corrections.  She cast a legion of typos out of my books and helped correct errors that had been for me unseen.  I appreciated her professionalism and alacrity in getting my editing work done.  If I had my way, she’d work full time for my university, helping me with all my other projects as well.”

It’s nice to be appreciated.

Christian Editor Network

I am now a member of the Christian Editor Network, which connects authors with freelance editors. I found out about the group in May when I attended the Christian Writers Conference in Orange County. There is a stringent “testing” procedure, to verify that editors can perform at a certain high level. Tough tests, but I passed. Now I can advertise on the site for copyediting, substantive editing, and all other editing levels an author may require. I can also advertise my skills as a writing coach or mentor, an endeavor in which I am particularly skilled.

I currently work as a freelance editor for several publishing companies, but the CEN will connect me with individual authors as well as with publishers. I’m looking forward to a long and rewarding relationship with the group.

All writers, nascent and experienced, come one, come all. The doctor is in.

Ralph McInerny

I’m currently copy editing a new book about Robert McInerny, professor of Philosophy at Notre Dame for 54 years, renowned theologian, and prolific writer, both of philosophical books and fiction.

From what I’ve read, and researched on my own, the man was truly gifted and used those gifts prodigiously. If I’d known about him when I was selecting a graduate school, I might have chosen Notre Dame, just to study with him.

My mind boggles at McInerny’s accomplishments. I’m such a slacker. True, I edit all day and don’t really want to sit and read or write when I stop working, but what time I’m wasting by not doing so. I could be reading McInerny’s books, or the plethora of other authors on my To-Read list. I could be working on my own writing, rather than waiting for that day when I will be “free” to write.

True, I am working at my craft for hours every day, but what is my output? Nothing of my own, and there’s the rub. I’m helping others with their writing but ignoring my own and, worse, ignoring  magnificent works that I’ve never read.

It’s time to refocus. Of course I will continue my work: it’s what I love and it helps put food on the table. But I the time has come, the walrus said, to get back to the books! For my own enjoyment and edification.

I know I’ll still watch TV and movies, but I’ll allot time, grudgingly, away from the books…fiction, non-fiction, perhaps even poetry. Kindle and iPad, here I come.

Thanks to Ralph McInerny for spurring me on.

The Interview Process: Open Yourself to Surprises

I gave an assignment this week that sent my students into a most unexpected spiral. Their task was to conduct character interviews, one with each of two characters they were creating. This turned out to be much more challenging for them than I had imagined. In the past, students have caught on quickly to the idea; not so this week.

The idea of the interview is for the author to get to know a character. When we create characters and decide who they are, what they look like, and what they will do in the story, we leave no room for surprise. We are dictating everything about the characters, and risk making those characters flat and predictable.

But through the process of interviewing our characters, we can open ourselves to surprise. We can learn things about our characters that might be useful in the story, facets that will add depth and color to our characters.

Interview your characters and make them answer your questions. You’ll know the answers, of course, but in the process of interviewing, you may come up with some questions about aspects of that character that you had never considered. Perhaps you have a character who is a photographer. She is a photographer because you need her to be so for the story. But after interviewing, you may find out that she became a photographer because she was cripplingly shy as a child and finally discovered, in high school, that she could participate in activities if she hid behind a camera, present but unseen. This insight might come in handy later in your story when this character has to step forward and make a stand (as you had already planned). It would give both you and the reader insight into the inner struggle before she acts, giving greater depth to the action and greater interest for the reader.

That is just one example of how sitting down and interviewing your characters can lead to bits of character knowledge that can strengthen your story and your writing. If you simply say that characters “just are,” you lose the chance to be surprised. Talk to your characters, and never let them off the hook with the difficult questions. You’ll grow as a writer and your characters will live.

Make Characters Believable

In my class this semester, I am working with students on making their characters believable. One of the first “obstacles” to overcome is their tendency to want to describe each character in detail: hair color, height, weight, perfection of teeth, etc.

My task is to have them develop the characters fully in their mind’s eye, and then choose those elements of character that must be used, and those that must be set aside, for their knowledge alone, and perhaps to be used later as the story develops. It isn’t necessary for each character to be described exactly as the author sees them. Leave something to the reader’s imagination. If it isn’t vital that the woman is wearing a daffodil-yellow dress, simply mention the dress. And wouldn’t it be more interesting if a woman who dresses in the highest of fashions and has her face and body sculpted annually still smiles with crooked teeth? What does that say about her? It certainly makes her instantly more interesting than if she had perfect teeth.

I also spoke about the importance of names in character development, and how the name can create an immediate, if unconscious, expectation in the reader’s mind. A woman named Wonderly manifests a different expectation than does a woman named Malificent. And a villain named Mordred is much more menacing than one named Tubby.

Names can begin the expectations of character that will be further developed by physical and psychological description.

Character Descriptions

In July, I teach a new class at UCSD Extension, “Creating Memorable Characters.” I’m excited about this class because I believe passionately that characters make a novel. You can have a great plot, a great story, but any great plot or story is diminished by cardboard characters. Take Dan Brown’s books. Gripping, fun rides, but can you describe the characters in anything but caricatures? (No fair using Tom Hanks et al. I’m talking from the books.)

I’ve recently read several novels in which the authors feel the need to describe every character we encounter: hair and eye color, height, weight, body build, etc. Is this really necessary? Can’t they leave something to the reader’s imagination?

For example, if I were to describe someone as a New York thug, I believe I’ve covered the territory. My idea of a NY thug may not be the same as yours, but I’ve allowed you to imagine the character as you choose.

Sometimes, you don’t even need a physical description. If I give my villain #2 a lisp, you can provide the rest. The lisp gives you something to hang on to. It gives you a taste of who this fellow might be. It’s up to you to decide whether that lisp makes him crueler than he might otherwise have been, or whether it gives him a sensitive side, an ability to identify with vulnerability. As an author, I can make use of something like a lisp much better than I can make use of his being 5-foot-1o and blonde.

If size, shape, coloring, and race don’t matter, don’t tell the reader the stats. If you do tell, make sure to use that information at some point. In my current piece under development, my main character is sort of short. This matters for two reasons: 1) her partner is extremely tall, and 2) her height will make a difference in the story. But if she had been of average height, why would I need to state that, unless it proved important in the story?

Characters bring a story to life. A writer must see the characters in order to flesh them out, but the reader doesn’t need a snapshot of each character who filters through the story. If you write a description, make it mean something.

Colonel Sanders wore a white suit and sported a white goatee. There was a reason for that. It told us something about him. But telling us that Rahm Emanuel wears a suit means nothing, unless we are told that it is a suit that sells for multiple thousands of dollars and he pairs them with off-the-shelf shoes because of his bunions. THAT is a reason to describe his suits.

More on characters in my next posting.

Vision Prose

I was recently talking with an author friend (Meg Gardiner) about a book I recently read, a self-published book that screamed for a proper edit. When asked about the primary problem, I said it was “visual prose.”

Too often, writers envision what they are writing, sort of like running a movie in their minds, and then write what they see. This is what I term “vision prose.” Vision prose will kill a good story.

Here’s an example (created just for this blog, not quoting anyone else’s writing): Todd pushed his chair back, got up from the chair, and grabbed his glass from the table. He looked at Nyla with hatred and then turned and walked to the door. Realizing he still had the glass in his hand, he put it on the shelf, took hold of the doorknob, and walked through the door without a backward glance.

I’m not kidding. This is the kind of writing I sometimes have to edit, and, more often, find in published works.

How would I fix it? First, I’d ask the question: what’s the main point of the scene? Answer: Todd leaves in anger or disgust. We don’t care about the glass. If you put the glass in the scene, and show us Todd placing it on the shelf, it had better figure later in the story. Otherwise, leave it out.

We also don’t need to see him push his chair back before rising from the table, unless he does it slowly, with great deliberation, his anger building with each backward inch. If there isn’t some specific meaning to his pushing back the chair, don’t write it.

…. and there’s so much more, but I’ll leave it alone after I ask: How did he manage to walk through the door? Is he only protoplasm?

My suggested edit: Todd scraped his chair backwards, glaring at Nyla, and left without a backward glance.

Okay, so I could probably improve even that, but you get the gist. We don’t need a blow-by-blow description of each of his actions. Give us the meat and leave the fixin’s out.

Next: Describing a Character: Why and How?