Which matters more – writing or editing? This is a big ‘chicken and egg’ question.
Writing is – hopefully – when our imaginations take flight and our fingers skim the keyboard without stopping. Our feet might grow numb with cold and our stomach might growl, but we have to keep going because the narrative, the characters and the scene unfold for us and we have to sketch it out quickly, before the spell is broken or the doorbell rings.
Editing is when we take that flight of fancy and read a book as a reader would. A reader who has neither seen nor felt the impulse of creation, nor the energy that has been expended, but who wants – is positively yearning – to read a good book and be taken out of herself into a place where she can dream of different, live the lives of the characters, imagine the scene, believe in the story web that unfolds. Editing corrects the text so that the intrusion of (outside) reality is minimal, allowing the reader to believe.
These two functions are, in some ways, not so different, even although the first asks us to fly, and the second invites us to examine every detail of our manuscript with the minute attention of a forensic pathologist examining tissue samples under a microscope…. Both tasks are intended to make the writing look smooth and effortless, so that the dear reader can relax and enjoy.
And which is most important? It depends of your point of view. Both are about creativity, but while one is close focus, the other looks in broad sweeps at the wider picture. Without the editing, the broader picture could not be supported, and without the wider aspect, the editing would be pretty mind-numbing. It’s like asking, ‘is big better than small?’ We need both, to give either aspect meaning, so both are essential and equally important.
Thank you so much for reading.
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December 14, 2016
How are the mighty fallen
Fran Macilvey Fran Macilvey, The Rights & Wrongs of Writing, Women's fiction and chic lit 4 Comments
How are the mighty fallen
Is there a pecking order in literature? Probably, to the purists there will always be.
But surely the most important aspect of any book is not its might, or the puissance of its ambition, but whether people read it. A book may be erudite, learned and witty, but if it runs to three thousand pages, fifteen volumes, or if it makes too many allusions to literature long past, it will probably end up decorating the shelves… Which is no bad thing. Lots of noble books decorate shelves, and contain much useful information…
When applied to fiction of a more populist bent, it seems to me that people can get the wrong idea about that too. Writing books about ‘ordinary people’ – a description which I take slight issue with, as in my experience we are all extraordinary – an author takes dilemmas and situations that feel everyday, and suggests creative solutions.
A fellow author Diane Dickson inspires me because her heroes and heroines take their courage in their hands and leave home, or take a chance to start again with something, and it intrigues me to see what twists and turns the characters go through before they get their answers. From watching the progress of Diane’s characters, I notice that what most of us want most of the time is more courage, more faith and love. It is a truism that we all want the same things: love, peace, hope, prosperity, and a sense of worth. We all only differ in the ways in which these can be achieved.
So when someone says, ‘Oh, how are the mighty fallen!’ when I say I’m writing general fiction, I reflect that this is a misunderstanding of what true writing is for. I write to share my experiences, to illuminate possibility, to inspire hope and add a dash of humour to life’s absurdities. If my books can do any of that, I don’t give a monkey’s uncle whether they are populist or highbrow.
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