Let’s play a game–it’s called Fix It or Nix It. The object of the game? To write a manuscript strong enough to get you to “I want to make you an offer!” avoiding, at all costs, those potholes that will get you rejected.
But it’s a tricky game, I warn you now. After all, who among us hasn’t looked at a problem in a manuscript and wondered if it’s enough to get us rejected, or if an editor would deem it fixable? How in the world do you know the difference?
1. Typos
You’ve sent in a proposal to your dream editor. Then you get a late critique back or open it up again yourself. And what do you find? ACK! Typos! You used, gasp, “there” instead of “their.” And were missing a “the” on page 6. Panicked, you’re ready to email the editor begging for the chance to resubmit.
Well, what do you think the editor’s going to say? For the amount of mistakes mentioned above, I say:
Typos slip by everyone. Typos are not problems. They’re just . . . facts. In everything. Even the cleanest of manuscripts is going to arrive with a slew of typos, and that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. That really is what editors are for!
2. Grammatical Flaws
If typos are a thunderstorm, by grammatical flaws, I mean a tornado. These are the kinds of things you don’t even know you’re doing wrong. Not just putting comma-llamas in the wrong places, but writing in run-ons. Not knowing how to divide your paragraphs. Never getting quotation marks right. All things that an editor can change, right? Well, what say you?
This isn’t just a typo, is it? It’s a lot more serious. Which means a lot more work. For this, I vote:
3. Plot Issues
Your story begins in the wrong place. Or maybe it has a sagging middle. Could be you have a theme that’s only mentioned once, at the end, but is the title of the book. Or perhaps your ending lacks umph. So . . . ?
4. Unoriginal or Overdone
You love a certain type of book. Maybe it’s a quest. Maybe it’s a returning-to-your-first-love. Maybe it’s–well, you can fill in the blanks. And since there are only a handful of plots in the world, you obviously have to use those. So why in the world did a judge in that contest tell you it was unoriginal?
5. Voice Schmoice
What’s voice, anyway? And what does it have to do with anything? Obviously your work sounds like you–you wrote it! And obviously it’s original, because there’s never been another like you, right? Yet when your book comes across an editor’s desk, they say it “lacks voice.”
Voice is elusive, but it’s also that certain-something that sets a book apart. To me, if story is king, then voice is emperor. Plot issues I can fix–voice I cannot. Voice is you, how you write, how you take that story and make it your own. But if you sound like two thousand other writers I’ve read… [insert me shrugging.] There’s no easy fix to this problem, hence while I’ll pass. BUT–as your learn your craft and practice your skills, your voice is going to evolve. What sounds cliched right now could develop so much in the next year that then I’ll be chomping at the bit to read more. So if you hear this, don’t give up! Just write more. It’s like singing–if you take a good, raw voice and teach the singer how to train and bridle it, they’ll end up with something. The same goes for writers. You have raw talent–now turn it into skill.
And finally…
6. Shallow characterization
Your character doesn’t quite go deep enough in a few places. His reactions are a bit stiff in this one place, but you’re not sure how to fix it. Maybe your heroine is unlikeable. No sympathy is evoked on the part of the reader.
This is a big deal, right? Characters often drive a book after all. So what do you think? I tend to:
So how did you do in the game? Or are you still not quite sure?
Here’s the thing–it’s hard for us to identify our own problems sometimes, and often not until someone points them out to us that we even realize we have them. Then we’re not sure what to do about it. Do we try to fix them or give up? Do we submit anyway?
I’ve submitted stories with problems–everyone has. Some of them have gotten me rejected, and some of them were fixable. But like with any program for improvement, the first step is understanding where your problems with a manuscript lie and listening carefully to feedback from critique partners, contest judges, agents, and editors.
As an editor, if there are problems with a manuscript that are too big for me to tackle but I see promise shining through, I’ll let you know what those problems are and invite you to resubmit at a later date once you’ve gotten a handle on them.
That’s how we improve–by learning to identify our weaknesses and then fix them. And though it’s still hard for me to always know what needs fixing in my own manuscript, editors are usually pretty quick at identifying what needs changed in other people’s books. It’s all just a matter of whether those problems scream