Do I continue with where ideas come from? It's been on my mind, not only because I was asked that question recently but also because I sometimes try to understand the volcano between my ears. But only sometimes. Most of the time, I just try to keep up with the eruptions.
I'll come back to it another time.
I'm heavily involved with editing as well as writing right now. There's a difference between editing for publication and critiquing. Critiquing is looking over a story and giving feedback on how you perceive it. It's often done on a story draft that isn't ready for submission. Yes, it still involves applying rules of punctuation, rules of grammar, structural integrity of the story, attention to sequence, etc., etc. But you look at the story primarily as a reader. If there are holes or errors in the plot or characterization, if something isn't making sense, you mention it so the writer can correct it or discuss why s/he's writing something a certain way (there may be good reason after all). In the most effective critiques, you also relate what you like about the story, what you perceive as the strong points. It's not only for encouragement but also to let the writer know in what ways s/he's on the right track.
Editing for publication is lapidary work. It's taking a gemstone story the writer has polished to the best of his/her ability and giving it the final cuts to make the facets scintillate with their shine. Or, depending on the type of gemstone, maybe it's smoothing the last tiny flaws, perfecting the shape of a glowing cabochon. It's shining that gem according to the requirements, the specifications of a particular publisher.
And doing it under the banner of a publisher means being willing to subject the edits, the suggestions and recommendations to the approval or rejection of the press's owner or managing/senior editor. It means acknowledging my say is not the final one. There's no place for arrogance or resentment in this kind of editing.
I took another of those personality tests recently. Can't remember the name of the particular test, just that it was one more Myers-Briggs variation. It verified (again) that my thinking process is intuitive. Intuitive— gee, that sounds pretty, almost ethereal, mystical. But like so many categorizing labels, it carries the implication of both strength and weakness. I see the strength & weakness most clearly when I write and edit.
For one thing, the intuitive process doesn't necessarily mean orderly. I'm a messy writer. At least half of my stories didn't start at the beginning. They started with the glimpse of an idea or scene so compelling I had to write it; but it was an ending scene or one somewhere in the middle. The rest of the writing involved how did the character(s) get to this scene and/or what happened after this scene.
Editing or critiquing someone else's work — now that gets interesting. Intuition helps me slip into another's style and empathetically "see" the story the person is telling. I don't lose myself, but I can adapt edits to help bring out the shine of that writer's particular voice.
I try to be careful to explain my reasons for whatever edits I do. First, I don't want the writer to think I'm trying to mold their writing style into a likeness of my style. (No cloning around, thanks.) Second, I want the writer to understand the why's of any edits. Changes I recommend are not arbitrary, not capricious. If I do, however, suggest a change that has more to do with a personal preference, I let the author know it's a personal preference as well as why I have that preference. S/He's at liberty to agree or disagree.
But the main thing I want to happen when I edit another's work is for the writer to think through the writing. Writers need to be able to articulate how and why they write as they do.
To Be Contunide Cotninude Continued (someday)
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