Note: This post of mine is reposted from Writer Unboxed, where it was published yesterday. On the WU site, you can also scroll down after the post to see comments, and can add your own. Hope you enjoy!

Working with an editor, by Sophie Masson

I’m just at the very end of the editing process for an upcoming novel of mine, and it’s got me thinking again about the extraordinary job of an editor, and how it’s such a wonderful thing working with them to unearth the final shape and polish of your creation. In my many years as a published author, with many books out there, I can count on less than the fingers of one hand the numbers of times I’ve had a less than good experience with editors. In my experience, they are dedicated, meticulous, intelligent, discreet yet honest professionals who respect both the creative work they are editing and the principles of their craft. In some cases, depending on the book, they’ve helped me to unlock a knotty problem of narrative; or saved me from a continuity error; or helped to polish a less-than-perfect phrase so that it shines as it was intended to.

Because I’m a writer whose first drafts are quite strong—mostly because in fact they are only first drafts in theory, as when I am writing I tend to go over the chapter I wrote the day before I start on the next chapter, and at the end of the week go over again the chapters I’ve written—I tend often not to get big structural edits, but rather more of a light going-over to check structure, then move straight into the first copy-editing. This is quite a forensic process, looking at every aspect of language, as well as continuity, errors of timing or description, and awkward phrasing, rather than plot architecture or characterization overview. It’s about detail, not big picture, and I love this stage, working with the editor to bring out the very best of the details in my novel, so that they can highlight and illuminate my story and my characters. I don’t always agree with the editor; sometimes I will decline a change, and explain my reasons; sometimes, too, the editor’s comments help to inspire me to find a new, different solution. Mostly, though, I agree with their suggestions, because they are based on such a close and careful reading of my work.

The first copy-edit is usually followed by one or two more copy-edits, then the proof, then final pages, each of which is sent to me for review. And each time, as the files go back and forth, something is caught by the editor, some tiny thing that slipped through in the first stages, or some tiny tweak that just gives that final, final buffing of polish. It’s a meticulous but also exhilarating process, as I go through the stages and each time there’s an improvement to my book, no matter how small or subtle. And that goes both for the long works, like novels, and the short works, like picture books (which can in my experience go through as many edits as a novel).

I know that there can be problems with writer/editor relationships; I know that sometimes they aren’t a good fit. In my own career, as I mentioned earlier, there have been a vanishingly small number of times when I haven’t felt comfortable about a particular editing experience and I’ve had to fight a particular interpretation quite strongly. But for the overwhelming majority of my books, working with the editor has been both pleasurable and challenging in the best way—the way that knows that in order for your book to be the best it can be, then you need to be able to see your work objectively, which is exactly the gift that the editor’s skill offers. The irony of course is that a good editor’s work is invisible to the reader–and yet its absence would be all too visible. So three cheers for editors all over—without whom both writers and readers would suffer!