Hens Lay Eggs
food for thought
The Fox and the Lion
One of Aesop’s fables tells the tale of a fox who encounters a lion. The mightly lion terrifies the fox, but repeated encounters during which the lion does nothing aggressive turn the fox’s fear into familiarity. The fable is the source of the old saying that familiarity breeds contempt.
This relates to a recent book I downloaded. I thought it seemed familiar, but couldn’t quite remember having read it. So, I opened the book and began reading. Before I’d gone half-way through, I recalled enough of the story to realize that, yes, I had read it. And I wondered how I’d managed to slog through the story the first time.
I didn’t remember the TSTL heroine’s intellectual dishonesty, her propensity for lying to herself and the hero, her utter refusal to acknowledge the reality of her circumstances and deal with them accordingly. I didn’t recall the foreign hero’s unlikely familiarity with American idioms. Other inconsistencies irritated me, too. I didn’t recall the author’s propensity to tell rather than show, and what showing there was conflicted with descriptive assertions of the heroine’s intelligence, compassion, and strength of character.
In short, the story certainly wasn’t worth reading twice.
Familiarity with it bred my contempt for it.
This deep immersion within a genre means that I no longer approach a book with eyes wide open in excitement: A new story! Insteady, I approach a new book with suspicion: Will this be the same story I’ve read before? Intimate familiarity with a genre is good in an editor and a writer, but perhaps not so beneficial to a reader looking for a new twist on an old plot.
With millions of books published every year, one might safely state that, when it comes to literature, there’s nothing new under the sun. Every overarching plot has been done before ad nauseum. What makes the story worth reading is the journey, but in many cases, the journey is familiar, too. Authors strike the same plot points in the same succession at the same places with little deviation to refresh those tired old story arcs.
It’s a true joy when a story delivers something new, something refreshing.
Those millions of books in competition with every other book means writers are rightfully leery of their ability to deliver a unique and original story, something and exciting. Imposter syndrome descends upon the writer. The writer becomes frustrated and condemns his or her inability to produce a story that will set the literary world on fire.
Let’s be honest: very, very few writers will ever set the literary world on fire. Those who do often have robust and effective marketing efforts.
If you’re writing genre fiction, then you should understand that genre and the expectations of its readers. This makes writing genre fiction both easier and more difficult. It’s easier because you know the formula; you understand what readers like and expect. It’s more difficult because there’s comfort in familiarity, making the writing of the story prone to sticking to well-worn ruts in the characters’ shared journey.
Injecting originality into the familiar doesn’t necessarily mean going wildly off-course. It may mean altering expression to engage and hold the reader’s attention with poetic language. It may mean introducing a unique tangent that diverts the old plot to a new direction which does eventually lead to the foregone conclusion—it’s just a different route in an “all roads lead to Rome” sort of way.
Whatever refreshing a worn out trope means, it does not mean abandoning good story structure, effective character development, abandonment of verisimilitude, or the failure to suspend disbelief.
If you have already written your story (preferable a second or third draft) and you need assistance refreshing the formulaic plot, then you’re looking for a developmental editor. I’m not a developmental editor, but I can refer you to some. (I offer sentence-level editing which comes after you’ve revised your manuscript following developmental editing.)
If you’re working on a story premise or a plot and want to produce a story that refreshes it and makes it exciting again, then you’re looking for a ghostwriter. I’m the ghostwriter you seek. Let’s talk and make your story great.
Natural Selection
When authors post their projects in search of editors, most such posts don’t go further than “I need an editor.” Those posts ignore crucial information that editors need to determine whether they should submit proposals.
Why wouldn’t an editor submit a proposal? Because editors specialize.
Authors, especially those new to the industry, fret over divulging too much information. They’re afraid the editor might steal their ideas, their story premises. To address this particular worry, I reply that ideas are worthless. It’s development that gives them value. There’s a lot of information an author can reveal without worrying about an editor absconding with one’s hard work.
1. Fiction or nonfiction.
Some editors only edit nonfiction. Some only edit fiction. Some edit only certain categories or genres of fiction or nonfiction. Some don’t edit certain categories or genres.
I do not take on scholarly (i.e., academic) nonfiction or horror. If you want APA, AMA, or other specific style guide adherence to comply with the particulars of references, citations, and such, then I am not the editor for you. Also, I don’t editor horror because horror gives me nightmares.
2. Topic or genre.
Once again, some editors only edit certain topics or certain genres—or they may decline to edit certain topics or genres. (See my refusal to take on horror fiction.) Or, an editor may focus his or her attentions on a particular topic or genre aligning with that person’s interests or expertise. I know an editor who focuses on mysteries. That’s her specialty, and she knows it inside and out.
Me? I understand romance, fantasy, and westerns—the same genres in which I write.
3. Word count.
Document length pertains to how long editing takes. If an editor averages 1,500 words an hour, then a 10,000-word document won’t take nearly as much time as a 100,000-word document, regardless of how well or poorly written it is. Document length affects other key information regarding the project.
4. Type of editing.
Most editors specialize in “macro” editing or “micro” editing. Macro editing is developmental or structural editing. A developmental editor takes a bird’s eye view of the document and focuses on its arrangement and organization. The focus on structural elements encompasses the plot arc, character development, logic, pacing, and flow. It focuses on what is said, not how the author says it.
Micro editing takes a granular focus at the sentence level. Line and copy editors focus on how the author expresses the story with concerns ranging from word choice to punctuation. Sentence-focused editors refine expression and style, not structure.
Both types of editors catch inconsistencies and redundancies, but on different levels.
If an author requests developmental editing, then line and copy editors understand the manuscript isn’t ready for them yet.
5. Deadline for completion.
Many editors book projects weeks or even months in advance, filling their schedules. They may not be able to accommodate a fast turnaround unless the manuscript is short. (This is where document length also comes into play.) An author’s requirement for completion of editing may also indicate whether the author understands that editing a time-consuming effort involving a lot of detail and analysis.
One way for an author to “guesstimate” how long editing will take is to use an average of 1,500 words per hour. If the manuscript is 75,000 words, then editing it will take 50 hours. Editors also don’t work on a manuscript for eight hours straight. For many editors, four hours is generally the maximum before mental fatigue sets in. You want your editor to be mentally sharp, right? So, estimate four hours per day for a total estimated duration of 50 hours and you’ll get 12.5 days. Factor holidays and weekends into your calculation and expect editing that manuscript to take a minimum of two weeks, longer if the editor is obligated to spend time conducting research to verify facts.
6. Budget.
Money matters. Editing is professional work and commands appropriately calculated compensation. Editors in high demand charge more for their services. A demand for a fast turnaround incurs rush charges. Inexperienced editors new to the industry may charge less to entice clients and get paid while they learn on the job. An author’s budget often determines the quality of editing. A paltry budget gets responses from scammers and low-bid, low-skilled vendors who may do nothing more than run the manuscript through editing software—which is something an author can do on his or her own. Many editors won’t waste their time bidding on a project that doesn’t meet their revenue expectations.
That said, there is a way to estimate realistic fees for editing, so an author may understand and plan for the expense. The Editorial Freelancers Association (the-efa.org) offers a rates calculator that calculates fees based on the average fees charged by freelancers for specific services. Many editors align their fees with the EFA’s suggested guidelines. (I do, too.)
Should the estimated fee induce sticker shock in the author, an editor may make either of the following offers:
- A reduced level of service. For instance, an author who can’t or won’t pay for a full developmental edit may be willing to pay for a manuscript assessment or critique. The service won’t be as intensive or detailed, but it still provides good value for money. (I’m not a developmental editor, but I do offer manuscript critiques.)
- A payment plan. An editor may offer variations of a payment plan which spreads out the cost of editing over time, thus enabling the author’s manuscript to receive the full editing it deserves. I offer a payment plan that proceeds at the author’s discretion: I edit a certain quantity within a specific period to accommodate a budgeted amount. This may be something like X chapters per month or XX words per month until editing is completed.
The Hiring Process
When you’re ready to hire an editor for your manuscript, don’t hire the first person who responds. Consider those who submit proposals that address what you’re looking for and what you want done. Check out their qualifications, their client testimonials, and their project history. If experience in the topic or genre is important to you, then make sure to verify the editor has that experience. An editor without that specific subject matter expertise or intimate genre knowledge may be willing to reduce his or her rates to acquire that experience.
When you narrow the selection to a handful of likely candidates, request a sample edit. Many editors (especially developmental editors) charge for sample edits. This is a normal and accepted business practice, because editors don’t work for free. Many sentence-level editors will edit a sample of less than 1,000 words for free. A sample edit demonstrates the service the author may expect from that editor.
Evaluate each sample edit to determine whether it meets your needs. You may see that your manuscript needs more work than you thought it did, sending you to revise and rewrite before resuming your search for an editor. (Hint: To get the best value from your editor, be sure to rigorously self-edit your manuscript first.) You may discover that an editor’s sample edit meets what your manuscript needs, but the editor’s style doesn’t mesh well with your personality. If so, you have a decision to make: Can you make this business relationship work? Case in point: I once edited a manuscript, and the author hated what I did because she expected flattery and compliments, not candor or correction.
Once you have identified your top two or three choices for an editor, talk with that editor. Your gut feeling when interacting with the editor tells you a lot. Choose the editor who’s the best match for you, your manuscript, and your budget.
Your readers will thank you.
Marketing or Profit?
The decision to participate as a vendor at any event for any business—and especially for authors and artists—depends on the vendor’s focus: marketing or profit. For many authors, the focus is marketing because it’s difficult, if not impossible, to earn sufficient revenue covering:
- Vendor registration fees
- Travel expenses (fuel, mileage, meals)
- Hotel accommodations
- Inventory
- Time.
Let’s plug in some general but realistic numbers:
- Vendor registration fees: For book/author-oriented events, author registration fees aren’t cheap. Most I’ve seen range from $150 to $350 per author, which includes one table and one or two chairs. So, I’ll split the difference on the lower side at $200.
- Travel expenses: At the current IRS reimbursement rate of 70¢ per mile, a round trip of 100 miles is worth $70. Let’s be kind to the author’s wallet and allow a per diem for meals at $25 per day.
- Hotel accommodations: Let’s be conservative and allot a base room rate of $100 per night for an economy chain hotel.
- Inventory: Depending on the number of books ordered, this varies. Regardless, even at wholesale, carrying sufficient inventory requires an outlay of funds. Let’s allot $7 per book for production and shipping and assume the author will bring 50 books. So, the author’s cost here is $350.
- Time: This is the big variable, because how much is your time worth? Even if an author or artist is generous with himself and calculates the value of his time at minimum wage ($7.25/hour federal), that still works out to $58 for an 8-hour day of working the table.
Here’s our total: $200 + $70 + $25 + $350 + $58 = $703.
If I’m selling books at an average price of $12 each, then I’d have to sell 60 books to break even. But if I only bring 50 books, then something’s got to give. Either the author absorbs that cost or the author shifts the focus of participation from profit to marketing.
The real value of event participation isn’t in the money an author makes; it’s in the marketing. An author who uses that time to interact with prospective readers and current readers establishes a personal connection with them. Building rapport is a huge aspect of effective marketing because people prefer to buy from people whom they like. This requires a degree of salesmanship and amiability that the typically introverted author may find uncomfortable.
I’m a diehard introvert, but early exposure and training in retail sales as a teenager forced me to learn how to smile and approach strangers with a friendly hello and to invite conversation with them. I’ve made a lot of sales simply because I enacted the first rule of marketing: acknowledge the prospective customer.
What I haven’t done and should do is to track my sales to see if there’s an uptick after an event. That’s one way to determine whether the marketing effort worked as intended.
Regardless, although I hope to recoup my expenses at every event, it doesn’t always happen. Actually, if I count the value of my time—and I value my time above federal minimum wage—then it never happens. Therefore, I adjust the variables. When my friend drives, I get to eliminate mileage costs from the total. I simply don’t factor in the value of my time. I sell merchandise other than books and hope my painting sell, too, to offset the costs. I don’t count the expense of tablecloths, tables, folding chairs, signage, business cards, and the other accoutrements necessary for a vendor’s stall.
Authors and artists put a lot of their personal resources and passion into producing books and art to share with the world. We deeply appreciate our customers’ support.
Author
Hard boiled, scrambled, over easy, and sunny side up: eggs are the musings of Holly Bargo, the pseudonym for the author.
Follow
Karen (Holly)
Blog Swaps
Looking for a place to swap blogs? Holly Bargo at Hen House Publishing is happy to reciprocate Blog Swaps in 2019.
For more information: