December 2nd, 2009

Douglas Adams Invented the Kindle

“…he also had a device that looked rather like a largish electronic calculator. This had about a hundred tiny flat press buttons and a screen about four inches square on which any one of a million “pages” could be summoned at a moment’s notice. It looked insanely complicated, and this was one of the reasons the snug plastic cover it fitted into had the words Don’t Panic printed on it in large friendly letters.”

The Hitchhikers’ Guide the Galaxy1979!! I love this book!
RR

Editors: who are these people?

The weird doppleganger-y fact that I work in book publishing and also myself wrote a book that was published has minimal impact. I was perhaps slightly calmer about certain aspects of the process because I already knew them from the other side, or at least from publishing school, and I already had some publishing friends when I started going to industry events. But that’s about it. Most my knowledge is about pretty specific types of books and situations, or else it’s the sort of fun trivia that doesn’t really help with anything.

But I am extremely fond of the book world, because it is my world twice-over, and because it produces one of the things I like best. So I like to talk about it, and encourage others to talk about it correctly. Statements like “Editing must be such a cushy job, just sitting around and reading” and “I should be an editor, because I always find typos in the Canadian Tire flier” always make me cringe.

So, though I don’t think any aspiring-to-be-published writer *needs* any of these terms below (everyone will introduce themselves with whatever title they prefer), all these jobs are interesting and knowing about them conveys respect for the work done. So:

What Happens to Books that Get Published, Who Does What, and Why
(note: this is book stuff only. If you are publishing in a newspaper, journal, magazine or on the web, the processes are substantially different).

At the very beginning of the publishing process, the book gets acquired by the acquisitions editor. That’s not a real exclusive position in most (all?) Canadian publishing houses–most books here are acquired by senior editorial staff who may edit some titles and pass on others to more junior staff. Publishers, editors-in-chief, and editors may all acquire. And then again, given the structure of a given house, some of these people may not acquire, or those positions might not even exist. And then there’s the exception to everything, college and university textbooks, which are often acquired by sales reps. It’s complicated.

Your book is substantively edited. This is what it sounds like: substantial changes like, “Should this character be a man? I think the third chapter would be a great ending–what do you think? And if possible the book should be about 150 pages shorter.” These changes can come from one or max two people–your book’s editor. Depending on how big the house and your book’s important, you could get someone with a fancier title, someone subject specific or, occasionally, a freelancer. Someone with the title assistant editor would edit books too, but likely smaller projects, and with some oversight.

Whoever is doing the work, these changes will come in the form of a conversation. Suggestions will be made–in person or over the phone, or else in a “notes” letter or email–but no one will rewrite your book. They will suggest how *you* could rewrite it, sometimes alot (or a little; often it’s more along the lines of, “Maybe combine chapters 2 and 3,” or “Could there be only a few cheerleaders described, rather than the whole squad?”)

Interestingly, this process *could* happen *before* acquisitions, if you happen to have an agent who is good at substantive editing. Most will have some suggestions, I think, before they are ready to take a manuscript out into the world under their name. But even after an agent has fine-tuned things, an editor is definitely going to have a go at the work.

This process could last a month or years, depending on your style, your editor’s style, and how much work the book needs. And remember, editors read every draft you send, carefully, and they are doing this for many books at the same time.

Some books are then line edited. Again, could be freelanced out or done by one of the in-house people above. A single editor really shouldn’t do two steps in the process because they lose the ability to see details, but given finances and deadlines, that might happen and likely it’ll be fine.

A line-edit is an interrogation of how the book is written, line by line. A line editor questions or sometimes rewrites (authors get a chance to approve) awkward, unclear, or infelitous sentences, deletes redundancies, questions continuity and factual errors, and cleans up cluttered prose.

Most “literary” books aren’t really line-edited–the words are supposed to be the *point* with literary novels and short-stories, and if there are a lot of problems with the prose, the house likely just wouldn’t take it on. But with an action thriller, a textbook, or a biography of a dead president, often the writer is very good at or knowledgeable about something necessary that is not writing. The line editor saves them from themselves, and they appreciate the efforts, while many literary authors would throw themselves on their swords if they received their manuscript back with many of the words changed.

Everything in prose gets copyedited. Poetry gets the substantive-edit conversations above and the proofread below–but no one actually messes with the words much. I think it’s assumed that poems are a bit too precise and personal for an editor to tinker with. They might suggest a new way of thinking about it, or *possibly* a new wording or structure that *might* improve things, but poets generally have few enough words that they are thought to have a firm bead on all of them.

Not so much us prosists. Copyedits are for spelling, grammar, house style rules, and, if there wasn’t a line edit, continuity and factual errors, as well as the occasional sentence that, in the cold light of day, doesn’t make much sense. Unlike the above processes, copyedits are (almost always) *not* a conversation. You should get to see it, mind, when it is complete, and veto any changes you disagree with, but copyeditors and writers almost never get to interact.

Either at this point or just before the copyedit (depending on the company) the manuscript has made the jump from the editorial department to production. Post-copyedit, the manuscript and those copyediting changes have any art, photos, illustrations, or other weird stuff added to them. Then they are passed to a page compositor or typesetter who makes that scribbled over manuscript into something that looks like pages of a book, only a bit sloppy and printed on 8.5×11 paper.

Then someone hires a proofreader (this is almost always freelance) to check the typeset pages against the copyedited manuscript to make sure a) everything got in, b) the pages are formatted correctly, and c) the copyeditor didn’t miss anything. Authors do not generally see proofreads, as no major changes are being made at this point, and likely the whole project is running late (well, usually).

Unless, of course, the author is asked to *do* the proofread, which happens often with scholarly books (both because the publishers lack budgets and because it is hard to get a proofreader knowledgeable enough in an esoteric fields (and when you are at the point of publishing a full-length academic book, all fields are esoteric). This is good and bad: good, in that the writer usually cares more about the project than anyone else possibly could, and will therefore be extremely vigilant. Bad, because the author knows his/her own material well enough to not really see typos–s/he imagines it is correct because the version in her/his head is what is actually being seen, and that is perfect. Also, most authors tend not to know too much about page formatting. But this usually works out.

A time-and-money saver is to postphone the copyedit until after the pages have been composed and then the copyeditor can check for format issues too. This will only work if it is a very light copyedit, as all altered pages are just going to have to be checked again. This is what was done with *Once*, which of course had very very few errors in it, so it worked just fine.

After this point, mainly, with many exceptions and irregularities, the computer files that constitute the book are checked in various ways and then sent to the printers (out of house, almost always), along with cover files. And from this, the printers manufacture an actual concrete physical item that is the book.

In an effort to make this post not insanely boring and of reasonably length, I’ve left out lots of people from this process: managing and production editors (that’s me!), interns, administrative assistants, and executive types. And there are legions of other folks at the actual print shop, and once it’s done, sales reps to get it stores, marketing people, publicity people, in-house finance and tech support and those guys who get the boxes from the warehouse. And the people who work in the stores!! It’s an amazing network, and even though yesterday I put some 11×17 pages around my head like a bonnet in an unconscious stress reaction, I am still proud to be a part of it. Mainly.

Soldier on!
RR

How tired are you?

I just washed my face, and when I went to wash the facial-cleanser bubbles off my hands, I picked up a(nother) bar of soap to wash them off.

I am very tired. Also, very clean.

RR

December 1st, 2009

Goodness

The Advent Books blog is up and running. This site consists of concise (25 word!) book recommendations for gift-givers every day in December from various bookish folks. I’ll have one up later in the month–only for such a wonderful project (from your hosts, Julie Wilson and Sean Cranbury) would I be able to strong-arm my ponderous thoughts into 25 words!

I received the beautiful PEN-Canada essay collection Writing Life, edited by the incomparable Constance Rooke, as a gift a ways back. So big and imposing is the tome, it took me a while to open it, but each essay is so vibrant and wildly different from the next, so insightful about this crazy thing called writing, that it seems the read will zoom.

A nice review in the (print) version of Broken Pencil of 2008’s Coming Attractions, which featured Daniel Griffin, Alice Peterson and myself. Yay!

I am cold and sleepy, and I have been trying to order a DVD online for 2 days without success, but really, what are these things in the face of literature?

RR

November 29th, 2009

Danforth Review Links Updates

As many of you are no doubt aware, the wonderful online litmag The Danforth Review ceased publication this past summer. This is sad, but understandable–editor Michael Bryson has been wildly generous with his time and has many other projects, including a new book.

Some comfort is also available in the fact that all the past issues of TDR were archived and are still available to be read. I, tech wizard that I am, didn’t really understand how the archiving system worked, which is why all the TDR links at right have been broken for the past few months, until today!! (thanks, Mark!) So, though I doubt many people have been clamouring for them, you can now read the review of my book, interview with me and short story of mine published on TDF at various times in the past three years. Along with tonnes of other good stuff!

RR

November 27th, 2009

Eavesdropper

I’ve already admitted on National Radio that I sometimes turn off my iPod on the TTC but leave my earbuds in, the better to innocuously listen in on the conversations of my fellow riders. Sometimes I don’t even have the earbuds; I just listen. Like an evening earlier this week, when the fellow behind me on the bus was arguing vehemently via cellphone.

The topic was whether the person on the other end would come to his house that evening. It was already rather late, and the guy was still on the bus and not in said house and so I wondered, is this a booty call? Those aren’t usually so contested, I don’t think.

Eventually, I worked out that the reason the other person (pretty sure) a female wouldn’t come over was that he would not permit her to smoke or drink on the premises. She felt this was a dealbreaker; he felt that was stupid and she shouldn’t have been smoking or drinking anyway. He said, “I’m gonna let you think about this. You think what you want to do and whether that is a valid reason for not doing what you want to do, and then you call me back.”

She called back almost immediately, and the conversation repeated itself, almost exactly (on his end, anyway). Then I think he noticed me listening (I wasn’t looking at him, but I had closed my book) and went and sat somewhere else. So I don’t know how it ended.

At the university discussion also this week, students asked me about using eavesdropped quotations in my work, which is actually something I never do. Or maybe almost never–I can’t think of a time I have, but the rule isn’t terribly rigid.

I listen a lot to what people say because I want a wide range of voices in my head (only ones I invite, obviously). I want to know a range of expressive styles, accents, lisps, slang, grunts, etc. I also want to know what a wide range of people think about stuff–some people feel it is reasonable to call an SO at 10:30 at night and demand that she not only come right over but abide by house rules. Ok. No one’s ever asked me to do that and none of my friends have ever mentioned it, so if I didn’t eavesdrop, how would I know?

Life is circumscribed, always, and in many ways that is good. My friends and family have a lot in common with me–interests, certainly, but also education levels and vocabulary, age, socio-economic status, etc.–which only helps us understand each other. But there is a limit to the vocal variations in that: We don’t all speak the same way, but there is a great deal of overlap.

I think, to be the writer I want to be, I need a broader pallatte than just people I happen to know. So I listen, and learn about how the world is and how sentence patterns can evolve. If a person says “moving forward” instead of “from now on”, uses “knife” as a verb, uses “my work” as a location not a project, insists that he is only “being true to my values” in everyday conversation–well, that tells me so much about how they are in life, and I crave being able to use that sort of shorthand in my work.

I don’t transcribe or quote partly because I don’t feel quite right about it; no one will ever track down that guy from the bus, but I’ll feel bad that I stole his words (although stealing his style of speaking is better how, exactly?) More than that, though, I don’t quote because I’m writing fiction and it is very very rare that the demands of the plot and characters I’m writing about will take in unedited words from a real conversation. More than just being true, story dialogue needs to be true to the characters, which is why I never take more than a general sense of rhythm and style from the folks I listen in on.

Here’s another one: At the Yonge & Bloor subway station newsstand, at rush-hour, among many other people a teenage girl is looking carefully at all the candies. She picks up a pack of tropical Jolly Ranchers and holds them up to the cashier.

“1.95 please.”
“Do you have–“
“What?”
“Do you have the chewy Jolly Ranchers?”
“What?”
“They’re like these, only chewy. I don’t see them here.”
“I– If you doan see them, we doan have them. Do you want those?”
“Could you look? If you have them?”
“We don’t– Ok.” [counting me, there were approximately 10000 people in line, but the cashier was so confused she went to the other candy rack and came back momentarily] “No, we doan. You want those?”
“Oh, no. Do you know what other stores might have them? In the subway?”
“I– No, I’m sorry. No idea.”
“Oh, well…ok.”

Of course, one could argue that I am quoting here, on the blog, but here I am also giving attribution to the speaker, insofar as I am able. Please hold no illusions that I am able to make this stuff up.

I don’t know these voices are doing in my head besides going into the general mishmash file called “experience.” But I don’t have a tv, so this is pretty good entertainment for me.

RR

November 26th, 2009

This week in review

Of course, this week is not technically over yet, but rather a lot has already happened. I think it was enough to occupy an entire week if it was spread out, and I am rather hoping nothing further will happen until next. Thus, I dare to pre-emptively summarize:

Tuesday: I attended the Writers’ Trust Awards. It is a pretty glitzy event, with roaming waiters and lots of excited chat before the ceremony. At the ceremony, the Journey Prize was the first to be awarded, which meant co-presenter Anita Chong and I could get our moment of stress out of the way early and enjoy the show! I had perhaps 200 words to say, and really people just wanted to know who won, but I was very worried about flubbing it, or not even making it to the podium because I had spotted a gap between the top of stairs and the stage where I could easily wedge my foot.

But nothing happened like that, and I was able to present the winner, Yatsuko Thanh, for her story Floating Like the Dead with no trouble. What an honour to do so, and what an incredible story. I was charmed by how sincerely stunned Ms. Thanh seemed, and was really glad I got a chance to meet her. And the other two incredible finalists, Dave Margoshes for “The Wisdom of Solomon” and Daniel Griffin for “The Last Great Works of Alvin Cale.” An evening like this one really makes me feel alive to all the wonder and diversity of wonders in CanLit.

I was also happy to see that Annabel Lyon took the fiction prize though I have not read the celebrated book, *The Golden Mean*. But if my intense love of her first book, Oxygen is any indication, I should. And I was pleased to hear that, though Ms. Lyon was also pretty stunned by the win, she remembered to mention in her speech all those smaller literary magazines where she got her start, and to please for no further cuts to arts funding in Canada.

Wednesday: On Wednesday morning I went out to University of Toronto Scarborogh to do a guest lecture in my fellow UofT Creative Writing alumni Daniel Tysdal‘s short story class. I did, as promised read the end of a story, “Massacre Day.” When I told the students that I would read the last three pages of that piece, I had the extraordinary experience of watching a roomful of students pull out copies of my book and prepare to follow along.

But that extraordinariness did not all compare with the level discussion after my reading and (very brief) talk. The students were reading intently and speaking insightfully, not just about my work (although I appreciated that very much) but about everything they laid their eyes and minds on. What a fantastic way to spend a morning.

That evening, was the Biblioasis fall poetry party, featuring Zachariah Wells, Shane Neilson and Robyn Sarah. The non-present presence of a 4th poet was Wayne Clifford, whose work was read by all three of the others to make up for his absense. It was really cool to get three interpretations of one voice.

Also last night, I got to meet London, Ontario, novelist A.J. Somerset who just won the Metcalf-Rooke Award. There’s a lot of literary winning going on this week!

Today, is the real American Thanksgiving, I’m pretty sure, so I am wishing you all a happy one of those–I remain as Thankful I was last week, on fake Thanksgiving. Also today, due to a minor incident, I was without tights for a portion of the day, and it was actually warm enough that I didn’t mind dreadfully, temperature-wise. The upside of global warming. What was strange is that I felt like a total scandal, bare knees and nothing under my dress but panties, when of course that is how I spent the entire summer. I think winter makes me puritanical.

I also spent part of today talking books with Kerry Clare while I lay on the floor eating scones and playing with her baby daughter. That was, as you might imagine, delightful.

To continued, low-impact delight.
RR

November 25th, 2009

Writing Exercises: advice column plot

Ok, apparently I’m not all that busy, so here’s a random writing exercise that I used to use a lot: write a letter to an advice column in the voice of a character in a story you are working on. Have the character summarize his/her concerns at the midpoint in the story.

This is a bit of a specific exercise. When I was last posting writing exercises, most of those were geared towards or at least open to creating an entirely new piece, and that really won’t work with this one (I would be very impressed to see an entire short-story in the form of an advice column letter; it could be done [I once read a good one that was entirely in blog comments] but it wouldn’t be easy).

This one works when you are in the middle of writing something and feel stuck (stories are of course the only thing I’ve tried it with; wonder if a novelist could use it?) It also needs to be a piece that’s fairly plot- and character-driven–otherwise, it will be a very boring letter and not really shed a lot of light on the story itself.

I find this helpful in stories where I feel like I’ve lost my bead on a character’s motivation, and/or can’t quite guess what that person would do next because I don’t know what they want. This exercise can fix that because it concentrates not on what is *actually happening in the story* but how the character sees that stuff.

Whether it’s first or third person, the characters still know a lot less than the author, unless the characters is static, omniscient Mary Sue who doesn’t grow or change at all in the story because he/she is already perfect. Ahem.

It is really useful to lay out exactly how a character sees the world, and what they see as going wrong. This is especially useful to do with minor characters; I often find I know exactly what the central folks are up to, but not at all how the surrounding characters will understand the situation or react to it, what lies they believe, what information they’ve missed or ignored. And I like to know all this–even if someone is only on the story-stage for a couple paragraphs, I’d like them to be realistic and human there, not a prop or a piece of the scenery.

I probably won’t post an example of this one because, I said, boring! But I do find this so useful to do, even if only in your brain.

RR

November 23rd, 2009

On-going goings-on

I think this might be a low-post week due to busyness, but then again it might be a high-post week due to having pictures and reports on the busyness. We’ll see how that goes.

Plans:

Tomorrow night is The Writers’ Trust Awards ceremony. Despite being in a totally different venue than it was two years ago, and thus causing me a little brain-on-fire here-is-not-there moment, I still think it will a lovely event. There will be literary repartee of canapes and fancy drinks, there will be entertaining speeches (at least, last time I attended, almost everyone spoke remarkably well, and briefly), there will be a *lot* of prize money handed out. And there will be me, in a *dress that I ironed* (what I wouldn’t do for literature) helping McLelland & Stewart’s fiction editor Anita Chong announce The Journey Prize 21. Yay for all long-listers, short-listers, and of course, the soon-to-be-known winner (guess who is very excited not to have to keep a secret anymore??)

Then on Wednesday morning, I get to get up very early to go out to University of Toronto at Scarborough to give a lecture of my stories. I’m going to direct my comments mainly towards the last story in *Once*, “Massacre Day,” which is one of the ones the students are studying. It’s also a story I’ve never done a reading from and since the audience has all (allegedly) read the piece, I’m free to read from any point in the piece. I think I might take this unprecedented opportunity to read the ending. But what I am looking forward to most is a discussion with students. It never fails to amaze me when people offer me insightful, thoughtful, utterly accurate interpretations of my work that I never thought of. Can’t wait.

Wednesday evening will find me at Ben McNally’s for the Biblioasis Poetry Bash, appreciating three poets imported to Toronto for the occasion. Should be outstanding–see you there?

So, if this is it for postage for a few days, I would like to leave you with these lines from the song “The New World” by The Burning Hell:

My world would be a place where everyone would play the saxophone
But never soprano saxophone
Only tenor and baritone
Then a drum and a trumpet and a rusty old French horn
Would play a solo and make us shake our little bones

RR

November 20th, 2009

Sorry

That toothbrushing thing? The allegory doesn’t hold up in the cold light of day. It *was* fascinating to read everyone’s oral hygience routines though, so please accept my thanks for playing along, and apologies for not doing more with the material y’all so generously contributed.

RR