Writing

The Editing Challenge Of Forever

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

I’ve been busy editing A Bridge To The Quiet Planet lately.  And it struck me that editing is a strange thing as it’s never truly done.

First, you have mistakes you may want to catch.  Those are easy to find with modern tools, but finding all of them takes a great deal of effort.  You can worry over and over you may have missed something.

Secondly, you have those non-mistakes but choices you question.  This word or that?  This style or that?  Is this take a bit archaic?  These aren’t mistakes, but are questions of best choices.

Third, you just have all those things you could tweak.  Cut this scene?  Different opening? Is this still timely?

Editing is never done.  Ever, because you can always find new ways to do things, find new problems, miss something and look for it.  Worse, if you make some edits, you might have made new mistakes to worry about!

It’s a lot like coding, only your book runs in the brains of your readers, and each reader is different.

At some point you just have to stop editing.  At some point you have to declare done.  At some point you have to move on, or you’ll go crazy.  You have to stop editing.

I found the best way to do this is to set a standard for yourself.  Do X readthroughs.  Run a grammar/spell check at particular times.  Then, go on.

Go on, edit, but give yourself a break.

BONUS: An idea I got from Serdar is that, when you’re done, do a bounty on mistakes in your book.  Not only is that a great idea to get people to participate, it gives you a way to relax a bit . . .

 

Steven Savage

True Creative Motivation

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Motivation is critical to an artist.  Motivation is what drives you.  Motivation is about what you want to do and why you want to do it.  When all goes dark, motivation is the spark that can light your way – or light a fire to burn down obstacles.

Thus motivation and understanding your motivation is critical to any creative effort.  Being “in touch” with your motivation can drive you and guide you – and help you set and reach goals.

Of course we’ve also felt lacks of motivation.  Of having our drives vanish.  Of not knowing “why.”  Loosing motivation is equally dangerous, but there’s something worse.

There’s finding your motivation isn’t your own.

Many times friends and I who are writers, artists, and other creatives discuss why we do things.  The funny thing is, we often have very different goals and reasons.  This takes us all in different directions, but also helps us know where we have common ground or learn from contrasts.  However, now and then we find our motivations to feel wrong, or encounter fellow creatives whose motivations seem shallow and unhelpful.

Something that came up in a recent conversation was this – some creatives are motivated by other people’s motivations.  They’re doing thier work, driven by what drives others, having assumed “I do X so I should be motivated by Y.”

A few examples:

  • Writers who think they must make a living at it.  However, there’s many ways to make money, so why use writing?
  • Artists who want to work in a specific industry because “that’s where everyone goes” – missing the many other options.
  • Cosplayers who assume they have to follow in the footsteps of the Big Names.
  • People who assume that liking games means they should be in the games industry.

Now and again me and my friends find people motivated by what they think their motivation should be.  It rarely goes well for such people – they’re not driven, they’re not embracing their creative lifestyle, they’re not engaged.  Hell, in many cases they just stop caring.

As a creative, find what really motivates you.  It may shock you.  It may disturb you.  It may not even be there, requiring you to do some hard thinking or go on a kind of vision quest.  But having real motivation means you’re really engaged in your work.

Don’t operate off of stolen motivation.  Creativity is unique, personal and intimate – so your own motivation will unique, it will be part of who you are, and it will tie deep into your life and experiences and goals.

 

Steven Savage

Insensitivity Readers

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

There’s a great concept I hope most authors have heard of – the sensitivity reader.  Someone who can help bring to light places you’re insensitive to people, suggest ways to better portray people not like yourself, and so on.  My own experiences have taught me how important that was (co-writing a book about Sailor Moon and being the only man involved was educational).

But I’d also like to suggest you may need Insensitivity Readers – people who will call you on your own bullshit and who don’t think like you do.

I found this out while working on “A Bridge To The Quiet Planet,” where some of the best feedback were people calling me on certain takes, stylistic choices, etc.  The contribution was invaluable.

I think there are times that we accept certain stylistic choices, writing patterns, and so on because other people do them.  I’ve noticed that if you have a kind of Pratchett/Adams take, people will sort of accept it’s good.  I’ve also noticed people will accept certain overembellished styles if they’re a bit winking at themselves – kind of retro-Victorian bodice ripper styles.  You get the idea.

There are also concepts people just accept, tropes and archetypes.  We just accept them.

So someone has to tell you – your choices may suck.  Some people need to be your Insensitivity Readers.

This is a difficult thing to deal with, as I found.  Sometimes your beloved ideas kinda may not work.  Sometimes you didn’t so much fail, but didn’t reach.

So someone calls you on it.

In my case, the person who called me on some stylistic choices, who was unimpressed with the way I did certain things, made my novel a hell of a lot better.

Sometimes you need sensitivity.

Sometimes you don’t.

Steven Savage