Technique Archives - The Writing Coach

Teaching Writing: Editing vs. Coaching

February 8, 2019 by Jacqui Lofthouse Filed Under: Editing, Guest post, Inspiration, Literary Consultancy, The writing coach, The writing life, Writers Leave a Comment

A Guest Post by writing coach consultant Delia Lloyd.

Delia Lloyd

There’s a scene in one of my all-time favourite films, All that Jazz, that addresses the perennial question about innate talent vs. learned ability. In the scene, the protagonist – a choreographer modelled on the legendary Bob Fosse – confronts a ballerina in his company who’s crying because she knows she’s not as good as the other dancers.

“I can’t make you a great dancer,” Fosse consoles her. “But I can make you a better dancer.”

That’s how I feel when I work with writers.

I don’t know if there’s such a thing as being a “natural talent” in writing. You can definitely see when a writer has a gift – David Foster Wallace, Amos Oz, and my new idol – Anna Burns – all come to mind. But, as we all know, years of half-written sentences and crumpled up drafts – not to mention gallons of self-doubt – lie behind any prose that looks effortless.

For most of us mere mortals, however, writing is mostly about putting your bum in the chair and being willing to write shitty first drafts. So then the question becomes: how do you help people become “better dancers?”

For a long time, I worked with writers primarily as an editor. Someone would give me a draft of a paper and I would fill it with red ink, altering word choice, verb tenses and sentence length. Invariably, I would also recommend that they completely rewrite their introductions so as to hint at the entire shape of things to come. I’m a firm believer that if you get the introduction right, the whole paper writes itself.

These days, I spend more time as a writing coach. My advice still boils down to some combination of exhorting them to work on both style and structure. But the process is quite different. For starters, I don’t “fix” anything. I mark up clients’ drafts to show them where they might improve their writing. Mostly, however, what we do is talk.

We talk through their arguments to clarify what they are trying to say. I try to show them that even if they feel confused, they actually know what they wish to say. They just need to move what’s in their heads onto the page.

Sometimes, we do exercises together to practice various aspects of good writing. We look at how to experiment with “strong starts,” how to identify one’s audience and meet its needs, and how to use mind maps to organise key points and supporting evidence.

Other times, we simply talk about why they feel under-confident in their writing. They tell me about a boss who told them that they weren’t any good at writing, so they should just avoid it. Or about a thesis adviser who abandoned them, interested only in seeing the final product, not guiding them through the process.

For me, editing and coaching both constitute helping professions. The primary difference is that with coaching, you get more insight into the whole person who sits behind the written word. And you don’t so much “do something” to their writing as empower them to do it themselves.

I’m not sure if I am producing any prima ballerinas. But I certainly enjoy helping the writers I work with become better dancers.

Ten simple steps to make editing a novel easier and more fun

September 9, 2011 by Jacqui Lofthouse Filed Under: Editing, Motivation, Productivity, Technique 5 Comments

Writing a first draft of a novel or any book is, you might say, the easy part. But it’s at the editing stage that we craft our work into something special. We aim to transform our material into work that will compel a reader.

Even if you don’t have a local canyon, choose somewhere inspirational to work…

If you’ve recently finished a draft of a novel – or indeed, if you are mid-draft but aware that you need to edit before you continue – the methods that I share here break down the process and make it much more manageable.

When I edit my own novels, I always work through several stages so I thought it might be useful to share a checklist of the things I’m looking for when I edit my own work. This article focuses on fiction primarily, but a parallel process can be used for non-fiction.

Take Time Out:

Once you have completed your manuscript, take time away from the work prior to editing. Have a break for a couple of weeks and consider getting feedback on the work from a trusted writing colleague. Think carefully before sharing your work however and choose somebody who you know will be constructive. Opinions can be subjective and if you are not getting professional feedback, it is worth choosing a number of readers, so you can get a balanced opinion on the work. You might like to prepare a list of specific questions for your reader. Alternatively, if you prefer to keep your work private, just taking time out alone will be enough. You need to gain distance from what you have written before you can edit it. Do something fun whilst you’re waiting!

Consider the feedback carefully:

The best part about receiving feedback is that you are free to use it or discard it. Nobody will give you some ‘ultimate truth’ on your novel. Some feedback will be valuable. Some you can discard. Go with your gut feeling. It might take a few days for the feedback to sink in and for you to sift what is useful. Sometimes we experience a sense of disappointment that the work is not perfect already. It’s a natural response. But learning to accept feedback and use it well is a vital part of our work. The fun part here is the freedom you have to accept what you’ve been told -if it is insightful – and use it well. Take your reader’s notes to an inspirational place and journal on the areas of your work that you now sense need work.

Go for the full read-through:

Take a deep breath and don’t put it off any longer. Just take time out, pick up the entire work-to-date and a pen to scribble with, get comfortable in an armchair (or on a cliff-top, wherever you feel at ease…) and read. Read it as if you had never read it before, as if you were an outsider, a professional editor. Read the whole document – if necessary over several longish sessions – and annotate your text with any comments that occur to you in relation to changes you want to make, including small line-edits. Just get everything down on that manuscript as this will be your working document. Whatever comes into your head as you read – get that on the page.

Look at the big picture:

As you read, have a separate notebook where you make notes on what I call ‘the big picture’. This is where you can scribble more lengthy thoughts on the over-arching shape of the work. Is the structure effective? If not, why not? What would you like to change? How might you adjust it? Are there any missing pieces of the puzzle? Get it all down in your journal as you read. You’ll use these notes later.

Use a simple check-list:

As you read your manuscript, look out for the following in particular. Make notes in the margins and your notebook. Keep scribbling freely and don’t let any thought go:

Structural issues – where does it not hold together? Are there plot holes? Does it go off at a tangent? Is the plot too clichéd? In non-fiction, does the ordering of the material work?
Voice issues – is the tone right? Is it consistent? Is it written from the right perspective? Do I need to make changes to the narrative voice?
Character issues. Are the characters believable? Do they take actions that seem real? Do I believe that they are flesh and blood? Is their dialogue naturalistic? Can the reader empathise? Do the characters develop and change in the course of the book? What do they learn?
Dialogue – Is it a good, condensed version of natural dialogue? Is it too focused on telling a story via dialogue and not realistic enough? Would the characters SAY this? Is the dialogue there for a purpose – to deepen characterisation or to advance the story?
Telling not showing – Am I telling the reader too much, when I should be revealing the truth through action? Remember, dialogue doesn’t equal “showing”. Good “showing” is when a scene is dramatised and we are immersed in what is happening, unaware of the narrator’s presence. We don’t say ‘he is sad’, his sadness is revealed to us.
Pace – is the action always moving forwards? Am I certain that each scene is propelling the character towards their goal, even if they are frustrated in that process? Am I wasting time, waffling? Every scene must be there for a purpose and advance the plot in some way.
Scene structure – Is there movement in the scene? Do the characters shift? Does perspective change? Is there drama and conflict and change and development?
Sentence construction. Is this working on a line by line basis? Am I overusing adjectives? Am I using adverbs? (They rarely work!) Do I repeat myself? Are there phrases I overuse? Does it flow? How’s my grammar?

Condense your actions down to a short list:

Once you’ve completed the read-through, take a separate session to look through your annotated notes. Then, choose a notebook – or a document if you prefer to work electronically – that relates specifically to your editing process and begin by making a list of all the major ‘big picture’ changes you want to make. Then ask yourself – can you condense this list to five key areas? Examples of such areas could be:

The character of Isabelle is too passive; I need to change her actions and responses to make her more feisty and thus engage the reader.
The pace in the first third of the book is too slow – cut down on extraneous scene-setting and cut to the chase. Keep the scenes more focused on action.
Work on my tendency to over-describe and lay-on the adjectives. Remember that less is more
Get clearer on Simon’s motivation in the novel. That needs to be built at an earlier stage if the book is to have drive.
Find a different resolution to the love affair. At present it is too clichéd and the end of the book doesn’t have impact as a result.

Don’t forget the line edits:

These are simply examples of the kind of points you might make, but there’s something very powerful in having key focus areas. It means that as we go through the book, we know where our main attention should lie. In addition to these larger points, you will also have a list of smaller points. However, you can work directly from the manuscript in relation to the smaller points rather than noting them separately.

Keep excellent records – be organised:

When you are editing, work on your main document but draw from all of your sources. Have the annotated manuscript(s) at your side and your list of key points. Editing can be an organic process, as when you make changes to a book, other aspects of that book can shift and change. Keep your editing notebook open as an ongoing document. From time to time, print up your newly edited work and read it through. It’s so satisfying to read a new draft and to feel how much smoother and more believable it is becoming. When working with clients, I’m often amazed at how swiftly work can improve with good editing. It is always a pleasure to see how work can be transformed in this way. Don’t let your filing get disorganised at this time. You need to know where everything is so that you can draw everything together with ease. Generally I save a copy of the old full manuscript, then take a fresh copy of it and ‘over-write’ the new version on the word processor. You can start a whole new document if you prefer, but I generally find over-writing works best.

Be a perfectionist:

Once you’ve edited the document – if you are preparing for submission – you need to read the final manuscript through at least twice more. This might seem like the least fun part but if you approach it in the right way, you can gain a lot from this stage. No literary agent or publisher wants to receive a manuscript full of typos and often-repeated words (we all do it!) When I was finishing my last book, I did the final read-through on a Kindle. (You can forward the ms to your freekindle.com address). There’s something empowering about this, as it enable you to see the manuscript as if it were a finished book. But also – when you read it like that, all the little errors leap out at you. The final read-through is the most fun of all because (if you’ve done your job!) you can really enjoy the pleasure of reading your work in a fully polished form and you can take huge pride in this.

Remain true to your own vision:

Finally, remember that if we don’t edit, we don’t learn. Even when we think a book is finished, it will then go to an agent or a publisher who will notice aspects of the work that will improve with further editing. As a result, the book generally gets stronger and stronger. At the same time, remember that it is important to hold tight to your own vision of the book. Stand your ground if you need to. We do learn so much in this process and it strengthens our abilities as a writer.

Essentially, aim above all for the best possible work you can do and for a vision that is uniquely yours. Then your own pleasure in the work and your skill will shine through to the reader, agent or editor. Don’t forget – you don’t have to do all of this at once. Just make that commitment to the read-through, pick up the manuscript and a pencil to scribble with and before you know it, you’re engaged in the process.

Why not try beginning today and let me know how it goes? You can break the process down into simple thirty minute chunks if you’re busy.

What would you add to these recommendations? Do please share in the comments.

Creating Convincing Characters (The Archive Series)

March 31, 2011 by Jacqui Lofthouse Filed Under: Character, Inspiration, Technique, Writing Exercises 1 Comment

As I launch the new Writing Coach website, I thought it would be a good idea to also celebrate the history of The Writing Coach by beginning this series of blog posts and articles from my own archive. In coming weeks I’ll be sharing some of my favourite archive articles.

This image of the author John Fowles inspired the character Harold Bliss in my novel Bluethroat Morning

This one “Creating Convincing Characters” is more a series of notes than an article. I prepared the notes for a talk I gave at the Cheltenham Literary Festival in 2005. I hope you find them useful.

Creating Convincing Characters

When we write fiction in an organic way, we do not need to begin with a plot. We can begin by creating our characters. The plot grows from the characters and not vice-versa. For example, my novel Bluethroat Morning grew from a fragment of a rejected novel; from a single image of a Victorian woman in a bustle dress walking along a Norfolk beach, side by side with her elderly uncle who was wheezing for breath.

Characterisation includes aspects of character we may consider when first building characters, including:

Physical appearance
Dialogue & narrative voice
Self-perception of character and the perceptions of others
The character’s history
The character’s conflicts and desires
The thoughts and actions of the character

Yet character emerges through the difficult choices a person makes. In other words, if you are an organic writer, it is discovered only in the process of writing.

So we can begin with a visual image, we can do writing exercises to begin filling in the gaps (for example using lists like those in the list below – a common method). But real character goes deeper. It emerges when you put characters in situations and conflict with other characters, when you begin to dream about them and build on the characterisation. Characters develop and grow.

They may at first emerge from a fragment

A phrase that intrigues you
Visual images – paintings, photographs (I’m a huge John Fowles fan and his picture inspired my character Harold Bliss in Bluethroat Morning)
Composites of people we know
A face on a bus or a fragment of conversation

We then build these characters – by journaling, writing or dreaming about them. Maybe we’ll pin pictures above our desks: the novelist Deborah Moggach (author of Tulip Fever and more recently In the Dark) once told me she likes to use Michael Gambon’s face as an inspiration because she feels it is so open to interpretation.

We may set ourselves an exercise – for example – ‘write your character’s obituary’. Or we may write a scene about a central childhood experience, to begin to understand the character’s past. I did this for Harold Bliss, when I felt I didn’t know him well enough and the scene I wrote became a vital passage in the novel.

As we write our characters, so they begin to build in our imagination. Only through regular writing do they begin to live and act in unexpected ways…

If we keep notebooks, where we scribble ideas about our characters, we are giving them room to grow. They must never be static.

Character is about more than a set piece description. It is dynamic: a vital life force within a work of fiction.

And characters develop through conflict.

Where do your characters experience conflict?And how do our characters develop?

My experience is: it comes partly through writing partly through dreaming. It’s like getting to know a person. First you simply see them, then you see them in a certain situation, then they start to tell you their life-history, you notice their habits, you begin understanding their habits, their turn of phrase becomes familiar and you start to be able to anticipate how they will behave. You may wish to experiment: utilise different narrative methods to explore them such as playing with a first person voice, writing their dialogue, an internal monologue or a third person view of their life.

I suggest you be playful in your approach.

Try putting a character in a situation that is likely to cause some distress or difficulty, and write the scene using close observation. Think about what that person wants. What spurs them on? Desire and conflict are vital.

I once heard Iris Murdoch speak in a lecture at UEA. She said that we must like our characters – even those who appear on the surface to be abhorrent. If we do not ‘like’ them (for which you can substitute ‘understand’) then your reader is unlikely to want to be drawn into their story. Every character has their own justification for acting as they do.

Aim not merely to describe, but rather to illustrate character through action and dialogue. Don’t tell rather show. Let that character be revealed to us. Showing involves putting your character in a situation and seeing how he/she reacts. Describing the action in some detail, using dialogue. Taking it slowly.

Your own curiosity is vital too. If you have a genuine desire to understand how a particular character works, you are half way there.

Use this list of questions to inspire a journal entry about your character:

Write down two random facts about this person
What is their most important life event to date?
If they could change one thing about their life so far, what would it be?
Who do they love?
Who do they hate?
What is their favourite item of clothing?
What is their greatest desire?
Is it a secret or a public desire?
How do they envisage their life ten years from now?
What was their first sexual experience?
What makes them angry?
What is their earliest childhood memory?
What frightens them?
What does their voice sound like?
What is the texture of their skin?

I look forward to hearing what emerges from these questions and ideas for you.