Yet another misplaced modifier, this one affecting a cast of MILLIONS.

I have an endless supply of these revision-needed sentences, so I'm going to continue to harangue you. :) 

In longer sentences, you will often have several nouns and several verbs, and some of those will have modifying words, phrases, and clauses. Here's one:

Let's not elect high-level government officials who make decisions for millions who have clear ethical issues. 

Question: WHO HAS THE ETHICAL ISSUES?

The officials, presumably. Or maybe it's "the millions"? 

The verbs don't help. Sometimes the "number" (singular or plural) form of a noun can help us figure it out--

If this were:

Let's not elect A high-level government OFFICIAL who MAKES decisions for millions who HAS clear ethical issues. 

Because "a" and "official" and  "makes" and "has" all mean "one person", we can assume that "has clear ethical issues" refers to the "official". 

We can assume... but the writer shouldn't rely on OUR superior understanding of subject-verb agreement to make sense of the sentence. Better would be:

Let's not elect A high-level government OFFICIAL who HAS clear ethical issues who MAKES decisions for millions.

Now if you read that aloud, you would probably mentally edit that to get rid of the second "who" and maybe the first too--

Let's not elect A high-level government OFFICIAL with clear ethical issues to MAKE decisions for millions.

Here we reduce a clause {"who has clear ethical issues" and "who makes decisions" are both relative clauses with a subject --who-- and a verb) to a phrase ("with" starts a prespositional phrase here, and "to make" starts an infinitive phrase). Reducing the, shall we call it "syntactical complexity", of a modifier usually makes the sentence clearer, as it's more obvious what the main subject/verb unit is (Let's not elect). 

So... back to the original sentence. 

Let's not elect high-level government officials who make decisions for millions who have clear ethical issues. 

The quickest fix is moving the "who have" clause to be adjacent to the word it modifies:

Let's not elect high-level government officials who have clear ethical issues 

Then again we are going to have to go with an infinitive (to make) because now those stacked "whos" don't work--

Let's not elect high-level government officials with clear ethical issues to make decisions for millions.

I'm not pretending this is a great sentence. But it's a grammatical sentence that clearly conveys exactly what the author meant.

Another episode of  read and revise like an editor. :) 

Correctly Placing Misplaced Modifiers

 Alas, I constantly edit, even when I'm not being paid for it, the author didn't ask for it, and I can't actually share it. It's just a compulsion that happens as I read, especially news stories that have presumably already been edited. 

And heck, why not share the compulsion here? Maybe someone will learn from it. I do 'revision sessions' sometimes with students, just editing on-screen and explaining as I go, and this misplaced modifier problem is one of the most common and also one of the most easily fixed mistakes.

In a sentence, a "modifier" is a word or phrase or clause which "modifies" or deepens or narrows the meaning of another part of the sentence. The most common modifiers are the one-word adjectives and adverbs which add to the meaning of a noun or verb, like: The girl's outfit proudly proclaimed her Ukrainian heritage.

But often the modifier can be an entire phrase: 

• The play took place in the old Gem Theater. 
• He was waiting for the bus to come. 
• The morning before the party, the dog got sick.

Or the modifier can be an entire clause (with a noun and verb):

• He didn't notice the shocked silence that fell across the room when he wrote his name on the board.
• The more you remember, the more you have to forget.
• --

Some modifiers are "bound"-- that is, they have to be in a particular position, like just before the noun they modify. You know-- The pink dress. (Not --  The dress pink.) These "bound" modifiers are usually single words or short phrases that modify a noun (that is, they are "adjectival," which means "modifies the noun" :). 

Usually, however, modifiers are unbound, especially the phrase and clause ones, and therein lies the problem. An unbound modifier can "legally" be moved around to different parts of the sentence, but what's possible isn't always what you mean. Sometimes being too free-range with modifiers creates the horrific crime of a dangler, where impossible and sometimes painful things happen:

One day she hunted for a moose wearing diamond earrings.

Decisively blocking the knife, her eyes narrowed with purpose.

Ouch.

I have a lot of examples of this kind of mistake, but just for now, let's fix an easy one, adapted from a sentence in a major mag article:

She admitted her enjoyment of the bullying on Facebook last year. 

Many misplaced phrases have to do with time or place-- the "where and when" of the sentence. I see this most often when there are more than one actions in the sentence, as here:

She /admitted /her enjoyment /of the bullying. (Ignore the "on Facebook" and "last year" for a moment so we can focus on the kernel sentence.)

Subject/Verb/direct object/prepositional adjectival phrase.

We usually think of action as being represented by the sentence verb (here, admitted), but actions can also be shown in nouns (participation, bullying). So here there are three actions, all of which took place but perhaps not all at once. 

Actions take place somewhere sometime, and "somewhere sometime" are often important "condition markers" to add to a sentence. (I mean, these words and phrases mark an important condition that changes or specifies something about HOW the action happens.)

But while the position of where/when modifiers might be moveable, the reality isn't: SOMETHING happened last year. SOMETHING happened on Facebook. 

Options:

1. The admission.

She admitted last year...

And/or-

She admitted on Facebook...

2. Her enjoyment.

...  her enjoyment on Facebook...

and/or-

...  her enjoyment last year...

3. The bullying.

...of the bullying on Facebook.

and/or-

...of the bullying last year.

(I know it's not a great sentence because I modified it to protect the guilty. :)

Because the author placed the where/when modifiers at the end of the sentence, right after "bullying", readers will be forced to assume that the bullying took place last year on Facebook. And that might be exactly what happened (although it's not in this case).

But... what if that's not right? What if the bullying took place last year at school, and she enjoyed viewing a video about it last week, and is only admitting it on Facebook?

What happened on Facebook?

What happened last year?

(Some of this info might have been revealed in previous sentences, though not in this case. And still, that's no excuse for imprecision in this sentence. When all it takes is a moment to get it right, make it right. :)

What's a revision which makes those very clear so that the readers won't be confused about what happened when and where?

On Facebook, she admitted her enjoyment of the bullying last year.

or

She admitted on Facebook her enjoyment of the bullying last year.

Sometimes it helps to "bind" a modifier to the modified word so that there's absolutely no question--

She admitted on Facebook her enjoyment of last year's bullying.

==

This is just one sentence and one set of facts, and one point of misplacement. Though I will try, there's no way to identify every possible opportunity for imprecision. 

There are as many options as there are possible permutations of actions and actors and conditions in any sentence. But ONLY ONE IS CORRECT. This isn't about delicate subtext or deliberate ambiguity or debated issues. This is just about placing factual information in the correct place in the sentence. You can get it right as easily as you can get it wrong. But you have to recognize when it's wrong, and then make it right.

Anyhoo, point is: Be sensitive to the meaning you create when you put a modifier somewhere in the sentence. Stop and think about the various interpretations the readers might make of this placement, and whether moving the modifier might make more sense. Time and/or place modifiers are especially tricky.

So if I mean the ADMISSION, not the enjoyment or the bullying, took place on Facebook, I have two easy options (the first being optimal). While we're at it, let's make clear it was the bullying and not the admission that took place last year.

On Facebook, she admitted her enjoyment in the bullying last year.

She admitted on Facebook her enjoyment in last year's bullying.

I have a bunch more examples that I'll post and fix in the future. Usually in order not to shame the writers and editors (who, grumble grumble, should know better), I'll change the words and keep the construction.

This is what passes for giggly gossip in my life. :)

A blast from the past-

The columnist James Kilpatrick used to devote his first column of the year to the many ways you can place and misplace the word "only" as a modifier in a sentence, and used this example to show the difference in meaning:

1. Only John hit Peter in the nose.
2. John hit only Peter in the nose.
3. John hit Peter only in the nose.
4. John only hit Peter in the nose.

(Wouldn't you say "ON the nose"? I would. I'm not sure how deep I would want to hit IN the nose.)

"Almost" and "already" and "just" are other common modifiers that can be moved almost anywhere, but each placement means something different.

Here is a nice British professor who does a great job of showing how to determine what a modifier modifies and how it works in a sentence. 

You can find some good examples of misplaced modifiers at this Guelph University site. 

Back in the saddle-- Non-American spelling

Hi, it's only been a month! Who knows where the time goes. Nowhere productive, I'd say.

Anyway, back again. I'll try and post more. I really want to post about what I call the Tyrannosauruses, the powerful industry professionals who are still powerful as the industry changes. But that will come later. Now I'm thinking about something much more trivial-- non-American spelling and formatting.

An Australian author who has been "dinged" in writing contests for her Australian word choice and formatting asked if she should try to standardize everything for American readers, or trust that they really can read English that isn't American. Good question!


 I think there are realities at issue here. First, of course Americans are perfectly capable of reading other forms of English, and publishers' worries about that are generally unfounded. Harry Potter, after all, managed to sell fairly well despite the terrible handicap of a British author using British terms. :)

American Publishers
However, those publishers will say, "We have a house style. We're not going to change that style (including spelling, punctuation, formatting) just for one author." And they're right too. Their editors and copyeditors and proofreaders and software are all geared to their own country's style. So if you sell a story to an American publisher and use "colour" instead of "color", expect it to be changed. No big deal. House style almost always rules. Even Harry Potter, after all, showed up in the US edition with double apostrophes for quotations! The publisher might be wrong about the ability of American readers to figure things out, but
there you have it. Those of us who have spent decades battling with "house style" tend to counsel choosing your battles when it comes to the copy edit. You know, "Okay, so they made Grandma into a friendly cocker spaniel. And they Americanized my spelling. Which should I go to the mat for?" :)

A couple thoughts-- will writing the story in your own style cause a publisher to reject you? Probably not, especially if the story is set in Australia. But don't be surprised if after buying the book, an American publisher sets the copy editor on all the URs. Probably they'll be gentle with your wordchoice (torch instead of flashlight), but monstrous on your punctuation. Just keep reminding yourself that JK Rowling had to put up with this too. (AS Byatt once wrote a funny article about having her British book Possession Americanized, with the pallid hero kind of Rambo-ized because the publisher assumed that American readers couldn't
abide a "slight" hero.)

Independent Publishing
And what if you're not going through a publisher but publishing it yourself? Well, then I'd say, go with what makes for a better experience for the reader, who is the only other person to consider then. Most readers who look for indie-pubbed books are very experienced readers who appreciate an author's voice, so don't worry that they'll be upset-- they're probably the least likely people to object to this. I would probably in the subtitle of the book or description make sure "Australian" is in there, like (title): An Australian Love Story, or in the description, this story, set in Australia.... the author, a native Aussie.... That is, give them a signal that this isn't Amy American's book. Then they have fair warning that if they are offended by non-American spelling, they should steer clear.

Contests 
As far as contests, really-- ignore any comments that don't make sense to you. And I say this as a chronic judge. Sometimes judges comment on things just to have something to comment on, and they don't mean for it to be taken as holy writ. And sometimes they DO mean for it to be taken as holy writ, but they're wrong or this is some individual issue they care about and no one else does (I have a lot of those ). If what they say sounds wrong to you, just ignore it.
And if you're being scored down for this, I'd complain to the coordinator of the contest.

I'm one of those who loves the slightly different "taste" of British books and those single quote marks, so go for it.
Alicia

TMI Sentences

Accidental Sentencing

New writers tend to regard sentence content as almost accidental, a matter of writing out whatever string of words is dictated by the muse in whatever order the muse comes up with. So often when we first start writing we have a series of sentences which string out and double back in order to get everything in more or less:
Paula tried to be humble. This showed in her voice. She was thanking Harriet for pouring her a drink. The drink was a dacquiri and Harriet poured it into a martini glass. It was the third dacquiri Paula had drunk that evening, and it was having an effect. She was trying to sound humble as she talked to Paula but all the rum was making her feel self-confident. She was after all used to being in command. So she couldn't help but sound like a commander now.

Now you all are looking at that paragraph and thinking, "I would sure edit that, make it more connected, combine some of those short sentences, show what's going on, not just present everything in a timeless mess like that." Yep. New writers seldom edit to that level of purpose, and good writers seldom just write a sentence or paragraph and leave it be. "First thought" is, for good writers, generally not "best thought."

The "Good Writer" Version  
Good writers know that sentences (and paragraphs) are flexible: They can be ever expanded and modified to fit in more information, another detail, a useful caveat, one more mood-setting descriptor. However, this sometimes results in sentences which are like foie-gras geese-- overstuffed and downright unhealthy. 

Then, as Harriet poured rum-powered juice into her martini glass, Paula worked hard to put a humble note into her voice, but the self-confidence inspired by three dacquiris kept threatening to send her into her more accustomed role of commander-in-chief. 

 That's not really all that much more readable than the first version. Yes, it puts it all into one package-sentence, incorporating time markers (then, as) and connective conjunctions (but) to show relationships between ideas. And this version uses the fun trick of infusing action and drama with strong verbs and verbals. Notice how action/verb forms are embedded as modifiers (rum-powered juice, inspired by, more accustomed role). That makes for a more bristling read. There's always more tension in verbs than nouns. (Nouns by definition are static... they are what they are that very moment.)

And all the information in that shapeless paragraph is incorporated into this meaning-laden single sentence. So what's the problem? Well, there's such a thing as "too much information," when good writers  test the tensile capacity of the English sentence by forcing more and more into it. Good writers often replace slackness with 5G force, rendering the sentence explosive with information.  (Hey-- I started with this version of that sentence: Good writers often end up with sentences like this, replacing the slackness with 5G information force, ... want to pick up the force-fed overstuffed metaphor somehow, uh... too complex, and there's a dangling participle-wannabe in there, and.... Point is, when we edit sentences, we don't always end up with great sentences, just not-so-bad sentences. )

The TMI Sentence

TMI sentences are the workaholics of prose, chugging along at the office adding on more tasks long after most others have gone home to eat dinner. Any industrial psychologist will tell you the problem here, or problems: An unwillingness to delegate, and an inability to distinguish the essential from the non-essential. (Boy, I am really mixing metaphors here. You should be glad I edited out the line about "TMI" and the lady in the seat next to me on the bus, talking loudly into her cellphone about her hemorrhoids.)

Some suggestions which might help with all our TMI sentences:

1. There's no reason everything has to go in one sentence. This is especially true in the first paragraph of a book or scene, where good writers often try to accomplish too many tasks. A paragraph of 2-3 sentences can also be consumed in one "bite" but won't cause indigestion. :) I always try to simplify the initial sentence by getting rid of deadwood and ornateness, and then see if what's left is one main thought or two or three.

2. With a long complex sentence which must embed a lot of info, starting with the main clause and stringing the additional stuff after can be more comprehensible. You know, I mentally just edited that: Long complex sentences embedding a lot of info can be made more comprehensible by starting with the main clause and stringing the extra stuff afterwards. :)  

or

You can make even long complex sentences more comprehensible by starting with the main clause.

or... never mind. You're probably getting the idea that I  never write good sentences the first time. And that editing doesn't transform them into great sentences! 

3. It very much helps to know your purpose. What exactly do we want to convey about this moment in Paula's life, about her relationship with Harriet? Sometimes we get caught up in the mechanics of pronoun reference and modifying clauses and simultaneous action, and forget what it is we want the reader to get. Is this paragraph supposed to tell us that Paula's a secret alcoholic? Or is it supposed to hint at the reason Harriet hates Paula? Or is it supposed to lead into the big moment later in the chapter where Paula writes her resignation letter? What's the point? Is the point actually there in the sentence? 

4. What's essential info? Sometimes it actually helps to break a sentence full of information into a series of declarative info-bytes, and then put it back together. That is, go back to New Writer's "in the moment" syntactic simplicity, only lose all the vapidity. And edit.

Paula is (emotion).

Harriet pours out a dacquiri.

Dacquiris are made with rum.

They don't have a dacquiri glass, so they have to use a martini glass.

Paula says something. (What?)

She tries to make her voice humble.

But she's too used to command. (So what happens?)

Etc. And of course, these are not supposed to end up as disparate sentences. They're just info-bytes that can end up in the sentences after re-writing and editing. It's a matter of outlining so you can organize.

5. Sentence combining is all about coordination and subordination. What goes together and why and how? What's more important than what? How can those relationships be shown using conjunctions and modifiers like "but" and "then" and such? 

6. Most of what we write takes place in time. (That is, this happens, and then that happens, and about the same time, this other thing happened, and finally this big thing happened because of that third thing happening. :) Time marker words like "then" and "now" and "after" and "when" conjoin events but also efficiently organize the process of the paragraph action.

7. Some information might feel important, but is so intrinsic it doesn't have to be said. For example, I ended that last sentence with "for the reader:" ...but also efficiently organize the process of the paragraph action for the reader.  Then I realized that of course this was for the reader. Who else would care about the process of the paragraph? However, many writers leave out essentials thinking they're intrinsic-- better to put in too much and have to take it out later.

8. You can simplify by diminishing. That is, diminish a sentence to a clause, a clause to a participial phrase, a participial phrase to a prepositional phrase, a phrase to a modifier (adjective or adverb). So, frex, 

With a hasty movement, he put on his hat which was red.

can become

He hastily put on his red hat.

Okay, that's too simple, but really, this common writerly fear of modifiers has often resulted in ungainly subject phrases dragging a chain of adjectival relative clauses, and predicate phrases with distant adverbial pseudo-preposition orphans. If you want to modify, use modifying WORDS. Stephen King really won't rebuke you for it, I promise.

9. Can you make it pretty? I mean, workaholics aren't stylish. (Quick edit: started that as, "I mean, the trouble with workaholics is that they always slump around without much style." See, I need editing too... no shame in it. But but but... I can definitely imagine a prose situation where I might want to slow things down and pontificate a bit-- hence "the trouble with workaholics is that..." Just not here.) The difference between a workaholic sentence and a great sentence is often that style, that swing, that just-gosh-darn-enjoyment of words and sentences and prose. (And that "voice" is often what distinguishes the great writers.)

In the end, there should be not a single sentence or thought in your scene that doesn't-- oops. Double negative. Try this:

When you're done, every sentence should sing with your voice. In tune. 

Yes. I mean it. I should be able to isolate any sentence in your scene, read it aloud, and "hear" you. (Okay. Maybe we'll exempt the one-word sentences. Maybe.) I know that's expecting a lot, and that might be a "final revision" task, not a task for the editing pass. But that just goes to show that most of us should be drafting, reworking, editing, and prettying, not necessarily in that order, but eventually.

Your turn.

Your turn! Have at it. I'm going to give that sentence over to you guys for fixing. Rules:

• It has to be one paragraph, but it doesn't have to be one sentence.
• Don't add or subtract essential information, but feel free to drop inessential information.
• While you're at it, please fix the pronoun-referent problem here: as Harriet poured rum-powered juice into her martini glass, Paula....(Whose glass is it? Two women, one "her".)

 Then, as Harriet poured rum-powered juice into her martini glass, Paula worked hard to put a humble note into her voice, but the self-confidence inspired by three dacquiris kept threatening to send her into her more accustomed role of commander-in-chief.

 (Now I'm thinking I better google to find out whether there's a "c" in "dacquiri"-- I keep changing, and I could just LOOK IT UP. EEK! It's DAIQUIRI! You can tell I haven't drunk enough of 'em.)

Alicia

More picky stuff about pronouns

I was complaining to T about the weirdnesses of the interface in my online classroom, and wrote this (it's in a grumpy email, so don't expect felicitous prose):

If you hit "save," your discussion post disappears, goes off never to be found again. (Really. NO ONE knows how to retrieve them.) 

My fingers slowed and halted, as if they knew before my brain did that something was wrong. And yes, when I went back and re-read, I realized I had a pronoun referent problem! The pronoun "them" is plural and should refer back to a plural noun. But there is none.

This is the sort of picky things we need to notice. It's a very common mistake, easily fixed. Yeah, yeah, the reader will figure out what I mean, but that's no excuse for letting this slide without correction, especially since the correction is so quick.
BUT... I'm not going to replace "them" with the singular counterpart "it." Why not? Well, thanks for asking. "It" is an ugly little word, and can refer to something specific (the post) or something not quite a noun (hitting save, for example-- the process, the disaster, whatever). Or nothing at all, as in "It's raining."

Whenever the pronoun reference isn't immediately clear, I consider what noun would be more clear. And in this case, "them" actually would refer to something not quite there in the previous sentence. "The post" exists, you see, in two incarnations:
1. The post that is typed in.
2. The post that is saved.
Same post, but it's like the child and the man... same person, not the same thing. So I thought here, just to make clear, I'd state the noun. It's efficient and clarifies, while perhaps reinforcing the lostness I want to convey:
If you hit "save," your discussion post disappears, goes off never to be found again. (Really. NO ONE knows how to retrieve a saved post.)


I know, picky picky, but I like to be precise, especially when emailing Theresa, who will notice if I'm not!

(You know, I had that last as a sentence frag-- will blog about that maybe later.)

Alicia

Guest blog-- editor becomes writer

From Alicia: Nancy Reinhardt has had a varied and intriguing career in writing and editing! I knew her many years ago in my RWA chapter, and she suggested I apply for a free-lance job that ended up being quite lucrative for me. She's a generous member of the writer community, as you can see from her website! A couple years ago-- small world-- a California publisher hired her to copy edit my husband's book. And we're in the same town! Small world, huh? Anyway, she's got a book coming out, and I wanted to ask her about the experience of publication after copy editing. I really am wondering if she can copy edit her own work! :)

1. Nancy, can you tell us a little about your career as an editor and writer?

I’ve always been a writer—as long as I can remember. I wrote my first novel at age 10. It filled up three composition notebooks and was about my older sister, who was in high school falling in love with a member of the rock band, Herman’s Hermits. From that point on, I was completely hooked on writing happily-ever-after kinds of stories. I’ve been journaling and writing ever since. Life kind of got in the way, but in 1984, I took a story I’d written to the RWA National Conference and showed it to an editor from Silhouette. She was so kind and told me that I needed to take some classes and keep working at it. I was completely deflated and put the story away.

At about the same time, a friend from a writer’s group I belonged to needed someone to help her with her communications business, so I worked with her and that’s where I learned how to be a proofreader and copyeditor. I discovered I really have a gift for it. About sixteen years ago, I went to IDG Books (now Wiley Publishing) and took their For Dummies series proofreading test, passed it, and took a project home with me that day. I’m still working with Wiley as a proofreader and copyeditor. In the ensuing years, I’ve built up a client list for nonfiction copyediting by cold-calling publishers, being willing to take tests, and doing the work. I’ve taken several classes and seminars about editing and I read voraciously on the topic. The industry has moved from paper to electronic editing, so I’ve had to pick up new skills along the way. I do think that people underestimate the work an editor does. I’m not sitting on the sofa in my jammies with a box of chocolates, a paperback, and a highlighter and red pen. It’s focused work where you are in front of a computer screen often trying to make sense of material that you know absolutely nothing about. Frequently, the authors I edit aren’t writers per se—they’re experts in their fields—so my job is help make them sound as smart as they really are by tweaking language, maintaining consistency, and fixing grammar and punctuation.

The novel writing came back into my life after my son left the nest. The characters started stepping out of my imagination again and I wrote. New life experiences and travel and just being braver gave me the courage to send my first complete novel to an agent in New York. She loved it, signed me as a client, and is now shopping it to publishers while I continue writing more books.

2. What is the difference in tasks between the different types of editing?

Great question. I am a copyeditor, also known as a line editor, which means I come in about midway through the publishing process, after the development editor has worked with the author to refine content and make any substantive changes to how it is being presented. I read every word of a manuscript to make sure it flows and makes sense. Then I get busy with the mechanics of the work—grammar, punctuation, structure, making sure authors are staying active and maintaining a consistent voice. I also verify that headings and references are correct and consistent. The manuscript goes back to the author after that, then sometimes back to me or sometimes back to the project editor (who more or less shepherds the whole process from start to finish), and then on to layout before going to a proofreader. Basically—very basically—the development editor is the “big picture” person and the copyeditor is into the details.

3. How has your editing background helped you as a writer?

Frankly, it’s helped and hindered me. I’m a seat-of-the-pants writer (a pantser) which means I don’t make outlines or particularly know everything that’s going to happen in my stories until I write them. But, the editor in me can’t resist going back over everything I write and tweaking it and tweaking it...so I sometimes slow myself down because I get caught up in editing instead of simply telling the story and then going back to polish it. The editor knows the grammar rules, how to spell, and has a good vocabulary—all things that help the writer be more creative and ultimately send out a polished professional manuscript.

4. Tell us about how you submitted and sold your book?

I have my critique partner to thank for this first sale—she sent me to BookStrand Publishing, a romance e-publisher. I went to their web page, followed the submission guidelines, and sent in the manuscript. About three weeks later, I got an offer to publish RULE NUMBER ONE.

5.  What's the best piece of advice you can give writers about revising their book?

First, find a critique partner and work with that person. Listen to what they have to say. Find beta readers and listen to what they have to say. Then don’t think that your words are golden; be willing to change them if you need to. I’m not saying that you have to destroy your story or write to a formula, although with category romance there is an expectation of a certain kind of story. But writers who refuse to change anything at all won’t sell their books. Be ready to rewrite if you need to. Take criticism well—and find people who will be honest with you. There’s a difference between honest and hurtful—you’ll figure out fast who really wants to help you, so stick with those people.

The flip side of this is that you have to trust your own instincts, too. Otherwise, you’ll always be editing and polishing. At some point, you have to step away from the keyboard, pronounce the work done, and move on to the next one.

6. What's the best piece of advice about working with an editor?

Trust them. Most editors just want to help you make your story or manuscript better, and really good editors are very conscious of your voice—they don’t want to change your story just for the sake of changing it. They want to help you create the best work you can. And edits aren’t personal—most of the time, I’ve never met my authors, I know only what I read in their bios in the Preface of the book. My job is to make you sound as smart as I’m sure you are—that’s all. Work with your editors, don’t fight them on everything, and know that they’re trying to help you.

7. Can you give us a description of your story?

How about if I give you the blurb for the book?

Decorator and home stager Katy Ruth Gilligan has sworn off men. She’s been married to two no-good cheating weasels, so when handsome book publisher Jack Walsh shows up on her doorstep and pretends to be her hired escort, she’s not one bit amused. Jack’s back home from traveling the world as a journalist, ready to take over as CEO of his family’s publishing business. Not only does he want to hire Katy’s firm to renovate his family’s historic building, he’s also very interested in exploring the attraction between them. At first, she’s humiliated and furious, but the job will put her on a fast track to success. Despite the fact that she’s drawn to her new client, Katy’s determined to protect her heart. Can Jack convince her that the third time’s a charm? 
Here's the "buy link:"  http://www.bookstrand.com/rule-number-one

Another in a series of really picky line editing examples, where-in I supply your possible protests so you don't have to.

Remember the game "Mad-Libs?" In that, you were given a sentence that had a lot of blanks, and you were supposed to supply words that fit the needed part of speech for some part of the sentence, and when the right p-o-s (part of speech) was inserted more or less randomly, you could get a theoretically hilarious sentence like this love letter:

Dear Wendy,

It has come to my air that you are the fastest girl in the hot dog. My ovary starts setting a catapult every time you speak. I would like to resist if you want to go to the operation with me next Tuesday. If you crane, please whimper me at the Andorra in week. I bicker you and everything about you.

Calculatingly,
Percival

The fun of this has always been that even the youngest language speaker can "parse" the absurdity while "hearing" the rightness of the syntax (sentence) order. While this might seem like merely a silly party game for word nerds, my perfectly normal college freshmen classes love playing this, missing utterly my point, which wasn't to Have Fun (heaven forfend).  This exercise is used by linguists to learn when children start internalizing syntax as a giver of meaning. (Hilarity ensues only if you're able to understand that "fastest girl in the hot dog" is the right sentence order and can for a second envision a bunch of female track stars running around in a hot dog.)

Well, I had that discombobulating Madlibs reaction when I read this perfectly syntactical sentence in an article: The security forces scout and secure locations. 

I was wondering why this sentence was so hard to read, and realized that almost every word could be a noun or a verb or something else. That is, most of the words could be a different part of speech than actually called for in the sentence:

"Security" is an adjective for "forces," but could be a noun on its own, like "cops," and
"forces" could be a verb ("compels"), and as I initially assumed "security" was a noun (so here the subject), "forces" became the predicate of the sentence in my preliminary read:

The security (subject) forces (present tense verb) (something to happen or something to do something).

Scout, of course, is most often a noun (the Boy Scout wore his uniform proudly). If I read "security" as a noun and "forces" as the verb, as I initially did, "scout" would seem like the object. It makes sense syntactically (that is, as a noun, the "right" part of speech to be the direct object), but at that moment, the semantics fall apart, because how can it be the security forces "scout" (no capital, so not the heroine Scout of the Harper Lee novel :) to do something? That's the instant I would have to go back and start re-reading, confused by my initial ("security= subject) mistake.

The confusion doesn't stop there, however. "Secure" can be (and usually is) an adjective, especially when used right before an applicable noun. "Locations" is an applicable noun--  "secure locations" is an understandable adjective-noun unit (locations that are secure), and a far more common locution than "to secure (verb meaning make secure of) locations (places)."

So… a syntactically correct (subject-verb- double direct object) sentence, that read as I first did, makes no sense.

Who is at fault here for the misreading? Well, why bother to assign blame? After all, it's not a moral issue. However, whenever there's a mismatch between what the writer meant and what the reader gets, the writer should "feel" that and go back and see if there's any way to make the meaning clear, to use the syntax to clarify, not obfuscate, the meaning.

The problem is, my initial confusion (taking "security" as a noun, not adjective) set off a cascade of other confusions, and I was well launched into my own misreading before I realized my mistake, and the other double-duty words just kept making the sentence ring plausibly in my head (all words were the right parts of speech for their position in the sentence).

What can be done? Well, it might help to diagram the actual meant-sentence. I can't find a site (can anyone?) that lets us do the cool diagramming diagonal lines we used to do on the board, but here is the sentence diagrammed as meant:

S                                  V                                 O

   forces                  |scout and secure             | locations.

 \The  \security

When I'm forced to diagram, I can see what's an adjective not a noun (articles like "the" and "a" are diagrammed as adjectives), and what's a verb not a noun. And I do see that the article (the) which is only used before a noun (and so is understood to introduce a noun) can just as easily "point" to "security" as the subject rather than "security forces" as the subject term. So an article ("the") is no help, as it might ordinarily be, in "announcing" the subject-to-come, especially with "forces" (a perfectly good singular-for-a-group-noun predicate) following.

Let me stop here and say that I bet those trained in the British tradition or who grew up speaking that other dialect "British-English" might have no trouble understanding this sentence. See, the Brits pluralize group nouns – The town council are going to the restaurant after the meeting—while Americans singularize group nouns unless the group is (are, actually) disputing something, so:

The town council is going to the restaurant after the meeting.

(In dispute)

The town council are disagreeing about whether to fire the constable.

So a Brit would see "The security forces" and assume that if "security" is a subject (group noun), "forces" can't be the verb, because as a verb it's singular while as a noun it's plural (someone explain to me why the "s" means singular one way and plural the other, please).  In Brit-speak, "The security" (group noun) would "force" (plural verb), so as soon as Brits got to that point (third word), they would probably quickly shift to the correct meaning simply because they re-jiggered the opening words to make it the subject phrase, achieving the right meaning albeit for the wrong reason.

Americans would still be going merrily along down the wrong path with the putative group subject (The security) properly (that is, Americanly) taking the singular verb (forces). That is, the wrong reading is still quite plausible to an American even after word three.

So let's go back to the beginning. It's a good idea to start with a word which announces that what follows is the subject, and the best ways are the article (which should work, but doesn't, because "security" is a good noun and "forces" is a good verb), or a possessive noun or pronoun which is immediately visible as a possessive (so "his" or "Bailey's").  That at least gets the reader into the mindset (as the article does) that what follows will be the subject:

His (security) (forces)

Trouble is, as you can see, we still might have the problem of "security" read as the subject. So if I were to rewrite this, I might start there, replacing the ambiguous modifier "security" with a "adjective-only" or the full term with something that can be read only as an adjective-noun unit. Also I might get really specific in my choice of possessive, to subtly indicate an "owner" (possessive noun) that can immediately be understood as someone who has a security force. "His" doesn't do that, but "Governor Bailey's" does. (A governor would have guards.)

Governor Bailey's protective detail

See what I did there? Governor Bailey's protective detail can immediately be read (correctly, unambiguously) as the subject phrase. The whole term is taken in one gulp—"subject (noun) phrase".  Why? It's mostly because "protective" can only be an adjective. No ambiguity. Adjectives aren't always as distinctive as most adverbs (most adverbs, as we all know, have the distinctive suffix –ly – "hopefully" or "angrily"), but there are suffixes like –ive which are mostly used with adjectives, and yes, I realize "adjective" is itself a noun (the suffix that would make it an adjective is –ival – adjectival).

That's the point. To be unambiguous, choose a word that "pings" only as an adjective that would be used (like a possessive) before a noun as part of a noun phrase.  No ambiguity here—even if "detail" could be read as a verb (it can be a plural verb—John and Mary detail my car), the "protective" means I've already assumed that the next word will be the noun "protective" modifies. That is, "protective" can't be read as the subject/noun, so "detail" can't be read as the verb.

That's probably enough to launch the reader on the right meaning, so that "scout and secure" will be read as the verbs, and "locations" as the direct object (that which is scouted and secured).  Still, some fixing might be required when we go from "forces" (plural noun) to "detail" (group noun which, remember, is usually treated as singular in American English)—have to go with singular verbs:

Governor Bailey's protective detail scouts and secures locations.

That Amer-English oddity (group noun taking singular verb) actually helps, because that "s" at the end of each verb renders it unlikely to be mistaken for an adjective (secures locations?).

What else might help? Well, "protective detail" could be replaced with a single word subject like "bodyguard" or "bodyguards," I suppose.

Or we could split apart the dual predicate, giving each a separate object. I'm not sure why this would work, except that the use of an object kind of "back-means" that a word is a transitive verb (transitive verbs take direct objects), so you'd get to "scout," see an immediate noun and assume that because it's a direct object, "scout" must be a verb, and then what follows the "and" is probably a second predicate-with-object.

So… hmm… this would require a bit more thought, and might be more than we need if we fix the subject phrase:

Governor Bailey's protective detail scouts places and secures the locations (might add to what purpose, like "to eliminate threats in advance of the visit").

I notice that I automatically placed "the" in front of locations, probably just to reiterate that "secures" can only be a verb (as we wouldn't put an article between an adjective and the noun it modifies). But with a singular verb (secures) that's not necessary, as "secures" can't be an adjective anyway.

Or I might take that dual predicate and reduce the words to participles (-ing words), which would require a single predicate for which the participles might serve as explanations or elaborations. I'm not really sure if this will help, but it makes the ambiguous verbs ("scout and secure" could be a noun and adjective, remember) more clearly "verbals," maybe:

Governor Bailey's protective detail work days in advance, scouting and securing locations.

I can hear the protests now from the sentence writer:

"But that's too complicated."

No, it's not. It was complicated before because the reader might get confused. Now it's simpler. The process the writer must go through to clarify might be complicated, but who ever said making good sentences would be easy, huh?

"That doesn't mean what I meant."

Okay, then make it mean what you meant. You're the one in charge. As the editor, I'm just guessing what you meant. If you make it clear, I won't have to guess.

"It's an ugly sentence."

Oh, come on. The original wasn't Keatsian in its beauty and truth either. This isn't poetry. Make it clear first, then make it beautiful if you want to.

"But what if I meant it to be ambiguous?"

You didn't. You probably didn't realize it was ambiguous until I pointed it out. Writers generally kind of (not always, not entirely) know what they mean, so they're already biased towards one meaning and can't usually see the other possible meanings unless they try, as with the "Rubin's vase/face" optical illusion.

"But I want to be ambiguous!"

Why? Just to justify being ambiguous? Why would you want to be ambiguous in a declarative sentence about what bodyguards do? But if you do want to be ambiguous, as you well might in a sentence unveiling a character's mixed motives or hinting at subtext (which this writer is definitely not trying to do), you happened on a good technique, to use terms which can be read two ways dependent on what syntactical element it's taken to be.

Be ambiguous because you mean to be, not just by accident.

"But you're messing with my voice!"

Someone has to. Lucky you have me! I accept gifts of chocolate as measures of gratitude. Email me for my address and brand  preferences.

---

I notice I keep using the part of speech term (like "noun") and having to remind myself when to use instead the term for the syntactical element. I'll just define that here in case I didn't fix all those:

A noun will usually take the role of either a subject or an object in a sentence.

A verb will usually take the role of a predicate in a sentence.

An adjective or adverb will usually take the role of a modifier (respectively modifying a noun or verb).

(These are my definitions, not official ones.)

Oh, and:

Syntax—how sentence elements are placed in sentences, the roles different words and phrases take in a sentence, and the interactions between the parts.

Semantics—what a sentence actually means.

Alicia

Computer Tricks

In my recent post on an editing software package, it may have sounded as though I'm down on the idea of using software to edit. I'm not. I am, however, down on the idea of letting a computer substitute its judgment for mine. There are some things I will let it do, and some I will not.

In that post, I already shared one trick for flagging problem words using search & replace with a different font color. Here are some other ways I use my existing software -- Microsoft Word -- to make editing easier.

Legal Blacklines

This one is the big kahuna. I use this every time a manuscript crosses my desk, and I constantly advise people to use it, too. In Word 2007, under the "Review" tab, there's a button that says "Compare." Click on this, and give it two versions of the same document to compare. It will instantly generate a third document that shows exactly where and how the old and new versions differ from each other. The comparison draft window shows all three documents -- old, new, and compared -- at the same time, and the software autoscrolls through all three panels if you change your location in one.

In other words, it's magic.

At Red Sage, we can't use Word's "track changes" function because it interferes with our typesetters' software. (Don't ask. None of us understand the exact technical angle of this problem. All attempts to fix the problem have failed.) By using the comparison draft, though, we can edit directly into documents and never lose track of where the changes are. This is particularly useful for seeing exactly how an author made revisions and for double-checking copy edits. It's also useful for helping me sort out which draft is which when different drafts aren't named in a way that makes the differences obvious.

In earlier versions of Word, you can generate a legal blacklined draft by running the spellchecker. Search your software's help menu under blacklines or legal blacklines to find the exact procedure to use.


Spell Check

Always. Need I say more?


Grammar Check

I do run the Word grammar checker. And I ignore almost everything it flags. But it catches enough gunk to be worth running. By the way, the things it flags which I generally ignore are: fragments, reflexive pronoun errors, which/that distinctions, and what it refers to as "possible verb confusion."

In addition to finding what it considers grammar errors, it will catch extra or missing spaces. Very handy for a document which must be formatted into so many different kinds of files.


Search & Destroy

Or as it's more commonly known, Search and Replace.

Each of us has our little pet words, our little tics in speech. If I notice a lot of really, just, very words, I can use the search function to clean them out. Also handy for correcting colloquialisms like towards/toward and for running quick checks of homonyms. I use it for everything from semicolons chapter headings. These are routine checks for every manuscript, but then I also have specific checks for each writer.

Because the editing process teaches me a lot about each particular writer's habits, I can also use S&D to make quick corrections on particular style points for each particular writer. I may know, for example, that this writer overuses the verb put, and that writer loves relative clauses just a bit too much. I know that one tends to misuse supposably, and that one starts plenty of sentences with in fact. These kinds of tics don't improve an author's voice, but can undercut it, so S&D helps us fix both usage/grammar and voice.

S&D is also handy for consistency checks. If a hero is supposed to have blue eyes, but I run into a reference to gray eyes, I can run a search for both blue and gray to find all instances of eye color references. Maybe the heroine's name has always been Carol, but on page 39 it is Carole. Is that a typo or an indication that the author might have changed it during the drafting process? Running a search on both spellings will make sure that we have it consistent in either case.

Hint: never use "Replace All." Take the time to scan each occurrence. "Replace All" can create unintended gaffes, and as useful as these tools are, they're still not foolproof.


How do you use your software to help you write or edit? I would love to hear your tips!

Theresa

Authors v. C.E.s

A few days ago, a well-known author ranted on her blog about a recent round of copy edits. I don't draw your attention to this post because there's anything unusual in its content. There is not. In fact, it's commonness (is that a word?) was more or less what made it interesting. I've had to mediate a few rounds between authors and copy editors, and there is one predominant pattern in these arguments. The authors talk about voice, and the copy editors cite rules. If you read the comments on La Jenny's blog, you'll see what I mean. It's just more of the same, and almost any of those comments has had its mirror in my inbox at one time or another.

Based on my experiences (and not on Jenny's post or comments), here are some of the hallmarks of an author-versus-copy-editor battle.

"I Am Freaking Out!"

The author gets emotional. I may be able to understand and even empathize, but I probably can't get anywhere productive until we get past the yelling part. Just remember, all that venting might feel great and help you cope, but it probably won't bring us closer to the solution. Yell if you need to, but then cool it and work with me.

"But It's My Voice!"

The author talks a lot about her voice. Frequently, she can't articulate a reason for doing it her way except that she thinks it's her voice.

I never share these comments with the copy editor (or editor, on those rare occasions when I must mediate a disagreement between editor and author) because that would be a great disservice to the authors. There are two reasons for this. First, the author might not understand her own voice. This is both common and understandable. It's hard to get sufficient distance from your own work to analyze your voice.

Or, second, the author is in danger of branding herself as someone who is trying to build her voice on bad grammar and bad style. (Handy tip: You don't want to do that.) Part of my job is making our authors look like the brilliant, colorful butterflies they are. Sometimes this means listening, withholding judgment, and preserving confidence -- and when an author just doesn't understand a rule, I would rather educate her than expose her.

"That's Not a Rule!"

The author doesn't understand the rule that led to the change. This doesn't count against the author until after the rule has been explained. By that I mean that nobody understands everything perfectly. I don't expect to know everything, and I don't expect the people around me to know everything. But I do expect a certain openness to learning.

Many years ago, long before my days with Red Sage, I was freelance editing a manuscript for a very new author. Her manuscript was loaded with laughable dangling modifiers. ("Relaxing on the patio, the ice cream tasted delicious.") I wrote her a detailed explanation of what a dangling modifier is and how to avoid writing them. She sent me back a one-line email: "That's not a rule."

Well, yes, actually, it is a rule in every grammar system I know. I could forgive her for not knowing it in the first place, but her refusal to learn meant that I never took another editing project from her. All of which is to say, when you're getting ready to do nine rounds over what you see as an objectionable edit, remember that you might not understand the rule. And if someone takes the time to educate you, do them the courtesy of trying to learn something.


Now that we've seen some of what happens on the author's side of this battle, let's look at the copy editors. Oh, yeah, we're going there.

"But This Expert Says...."

Every copy editor worth her paycheck can cite house style guides, multiple grammar books, dictionaries, AP/APA/MLA/Chicago, and so on. They might know things you've never dreamed of, such as who Richard Lanham is, and if they're also content editors, they might also have opinions on how and when to apply Lanham's theories. (This is why it's dangerous to join a table full of editors at a cocktail party. You will have to listen to this sort of thing. And then you will cry. Though those might be tears of boredom rather than frustration.)

All of this education means that they've been thoroughly trained in competing and contradictory philosophies of style, usage, and grammar. And if they're left to choose their own solutions, they might just choose one you don't want. The most common problem I see in fiction editing -- and this is more or less what La Jenny was complaining about on her blog -- is a copy editor scorning generative grammar principles in favor of more formal classical grammar. (Fictive grammar generally draws from both schools.) (Also -- and this might just be my particular bias, but it's formed from experience -- it seems that the more educated an editor is, the more scornful she is of generative grammar.)

"But The Style Guide Says...."

The thing about copy editors is that, despite this incredible wealth of information at their disposal, they're really not paid to exercise editorial judgment. They're paid to apply a chosen system of rules to the material at hand. The house supplies the rules, and the copy editor follows them. This is what we expect them to do, and most of them do it brilliantly.

Knowing when not to apply a particular rule is a bit of an art, and it's one best left to other hands. So as long as the CE is following the rules she's supposed to follow, she's on safe ground, even if her result might sound funny. So cut her some slack if she turns in an odd change.

"But The Style Guide Is Wrong!"

Just as I've had authors explode over changes to their manuscripts, I've seen editors explode over changes to the style guide. Editors and copy editors alike become deeply wedded to certain principles -- and if they are also writers? Look out! You know how we sometimes joke about The Great Semicolon Debate of '08? That actually happened. And it's still happening to this day. Just last week I got an email from someone in-house about the damned semicolons, may they all burn in hell. And then got another one from the person on the other side of the argument. Never ends, I swear.

Some rules of grammar are constant from one system to another. Adjectives modify nouns, and progressive tenses signal ongoing action, and periods come at the ends of declarative sentences. Those sorts of things will never change.

Then there are matters of style and usage, which can vary somewhat. It's these variables that can cause the most squabbling on my side of the desk. Of course, most of us on this side of the desk are just twisted enough to think that kind of squabbling is super fun.


So what happens, really, when a disagreement forms over copy edits? I have to mediate between a copy editor with incredible knowledge (but not always the judgment we want to see) and an author who is in a panic (sometimes for good reason, even though she might not be able to articulate the reason). The end result is that both sides claim to be grateful for the resolution while secretly sticking pins into their Theresa dolls. And then I pour myself a stiff drink. There's your HEA!

Theresa

ps. Jenny, I adore your books and your charming self. This post is not about you. It was just inspired by you.