(In my case, the best thing an editor can do while I’m writing something is to keep cheerful and encouraging, say nice things, and keep getting words out of me by hook or by crook. I’ll sort out the problems for the second draft.)
Then there are copyeditors. Most editors now are too busy to actually spend 30 plus hours reading a manuscript with a blue pencil scrutinising each wayward comma. But, they figure, somebody has to do it.
In each case, the main thing an editor is meant to do when they do their jobs is to make you look good. I think the analogy is much less a musician producing her own records, and a lot more like an actor doing his own make-up and wigs, or an actor in a one man show doing her own lighting. Sure, you can do it yourself, but it’s much easier, and you’ll get a better look, if you get another pair of eyes and hands in to do it.
Editors make you look good. That’s their job. Whether it’s by pointing out that the relationship between the lead character and his father was never satisfyingly resolved, or by pointing out you’ve changed the spelling of the name of the landlady between her two appearances. Like the lighting guy, they are another pair of eyes.
And I always like another pair of eyes. If I’m writing a short story I’ll send the first draft out to a bunch of friends for feedback; they may see things I’ve missed, or point out places I thought I’d got away with something that I hadn’t. Or tell me the title is crap. Or whatever. I listen, because it’s in my best interests to listen. I may listen and then decide that, no, I like my title, and the relationship between the protagonist and his father is just what I want it to be, or whatever, but I’ll still listen.
(Something I learned ages ago. When people tell you there’s something wrong with a story, they’re almost always right. When they tell what it is that’s wrong and how it can be fixed, they’re almost always wrong.)
Of course, there are authors out there who are not edited. This is not necessarily a good thing. I read a bestselling book by a bestselling one of them. He had a flashback scene in which one of the neighborhood kids was wandering around, twelve years before he was born. An editor would have put a pencil mark beside it and said “Do you mean this?” and the embarrassed author would have admitted that, no, he wasn’t thinking, he just mentally thought of the names of some of the kids and forgot that one of them would have been minus twelve in that scene, and fixed it. So I don’t plan to become one of the great unedited.
I would say that when you find a good editor, you stick with them; and when you find a good copyeditor you stick with them as best you can.
(Often, in the US, they won’t tell you who the copyeditor is. They are more anonymous than taxmen. Apparently, there have been too many occasions in the history of publishing of overstressed authors ringing up copyeditors at 2:00am and screaming “I’m going to kill you, you bastard – how dare you change my noble and beautiful forgot to an inspid and lustreless forgotten?” that you are actively discouraged from talking to them before, during or after the copyediting process. This makes it hard to know when you got a good one, and harder still to keep them when you did.). . .
And, whew.posted by Neil Gaiman 2:38 PM
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Tuesday, March 27, 2001
So we’re edging from the editing (and copy editing) process into the promotional process here. This is the third stage of getting a book published. (The first stage is writing it. The second is editing the manuscript. The third is promoting the book to the trade. The fourth is promoting the book to the public. The fifth is having a good sit down when it’s all over and contemplating a nice restful career as a lion tamer or a steeplejack.) (Which reminds me, I’ve still not yet written about the day of being photographed for the author photos. One day soon.)
And I know this (that we’re moving into promoting the book to the trade) because this weekend I shall be in Las Vegas, talking to Borders Books people — store managers and suchlike I guess, — and telling them. . . actually I have no idea what I’m meant to be talking to them about — whether I’m ‘giving a talk’ or making a speech, or just getting up there and affably winging it (something I quite enjoy doing from time to time). But I imagine that at the end of whatever it is we’re going to be doing, they’ll all know that American Gods exists.
They’ll all have copies of the American Gods missing-the-last- galleys as well, and I’ll probably sign them. All I really hope is that they read them when they get home — or give them to the people who work in the stores who want to read them — rather than just stick them out on e-bay, unread.posted by Neil Gaiman 5:13 PM
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APRIL
Wednesday, April 11, 2001
I have been asked to give some dos and don’ts for people coming to signings. And although I’ve written do’s and don’t’s and suggestions for stores before (and may possibly reprint them here, for contrast), I don’t think I’ve ever written any suggestions for the people who actually make the signings possible.
If you’ve never been to any kind of signing with me, the first thing you should know is, wherever possible it’ll start with a reading and a question and answer session. Then you’ll be herded into lines (or, the first 50 people will be called, just like at a deli counter) and I’ll start signing stuff for people. And that will go on until everyone’s done, and happy, and out the door.
So here you go. . . Some dos and don’ts in no particular order. . .
1) It can be a good idea to call the store first and find out if they have any specific ground rules. Some do, some don’t. Will they be handing out numbers? Will you have to buy a copy of American Gods from them in hardback to get prime place in the line or will it be first come first served? What about books you bought somewhere else? Can you bring your ferret?
2) Get there reasonably early if you can. I’ll always try and make sure that anyone in line during the posted signing times gets stuff signed. At evening signings I’ll always stay and make sure everyone goes away happy, but on this tour there will be several places where I’ll need to go from a signing to another signing, so don’t cut it fine.
3) You may own everything I’ve ever written. I’m very grateful. I’m probably not going to sign it all, so you had better simply pick out your favourite thing and bring that along.
4) As a rule, I tend to tell stores I’ll sign 3 things people bring with them – plus any copies of the new book you buy (if you have six brothers or sisters and buy one each, I’ll sign them all). But stores may have their own policies – and we may wind up changing the rules as we go in order to make sure that everyone gets stuff signed.
5) Eat first. I’m not kidding. If it’s a night-time signing of the kind that can go on for a long time, bring sandwiches or something to nibble (some signings with numbers handed out may make it possible for you to go out and eat and come back. Or you may be first in line. But plan for a worst case scenario of several hours of standing and shuffling your way slowly around a store). (If it’s a daytime signing somewhere that a line may snake out of a store into the hot sun, bring something to drink. I always feel guilty when people pass out.)
6) You may be in that line for a while, so talk to the
people around you. You never know, you could make a new friend. I’ve signed books for kids whose parents met in signing lines (although to the best of my knowledge none of them were actually conceived there). And while we’re on the subject, bring something to read while waiting. Or buy something to read – you’ll be in a book shop, after all.
7) Don’t worry. You won’t say anything stupid. It’ll be fine. My heart tends to go out to people who’ve stood in line for hours trying to think of the single brilliant witty erudite thing that they can say when they get to the front of the line, and when it finally happens they put their books in front of me and go blank, or make a complete mess of whatever they were trying to say. If you have anything you want to ask or say, just ask, or say it, and if you get a blank look from me it’s probably because I’m slightly brain dead after signing several thousand things that day.
8) The only people who ever get short shrift from me are the people who turn up with tape recorders who try and tape interviews during signings. I won’t do them – it’s unfair on the other people in the line, and unfair on me (and I was as curt with the guy from the LA Times who tried it as I am to people who decide on the spur of the moment to try and tape something for their college paper). If you want to do an interview, ask the bookstore who you should talk to in order to set it up.