More Editing

By the author, Jim Doti

I’d like to share just a few more examples of how Marna’s editing helped me to overt several major errors in the book.

For example, here is the opening sentence of the story:

Jimmy walks to school with his mom and his dog, Blackie.

Marna caught something I missed:

Because you’ve commented in the letter to readers that your mom and Blackie walked you to school on the first day, this might be assumed to be that first day . . . but then we later see it must be winter.  You might want to add something to the first sentence, such as:  “Jimmy walks to school with his mom and his dog, Blackie, just as he’s done every day since he started first grade.

Without Marna’s edit, I would have confused the reader right at the very start of the book.

Here’s another important edit.  On page 25, when I move the action to the opening night of the play, I wrote:

The four elves are dressed in raggedy elves’ outfits that Jimmy’s mom made for them.  They look funny wearing the long, pointy ears she placed over their real ears.

Marna’s comment:

I’d add a transition sentence here.  Although it’s a new page, it’s too big a leap from Jimmy and his mom at home to the night of the play without information to that effect.  Something like, “On the night of the play” or “When the night of the play arrives” would help the transition.

This is a great example of the author knowing what’s going on but not communicating that knowledge to the reader.  Without Marna’s editorial change, the reader would be somewhat lost, not knowing that the scene has shifted.  It’s up to an author to explain those shifts so the reader can properly visualize what is happening.  A simple “When the night of the play arrives” helps make that shift.

A similar example is on the last page of the story (page 29), where I attempted to introduce a discussion about “verve” with the following:

Johnny asks, “What’s all this stuff about verve?”

Marna appropriately pointed out the following:

This reads a little illogically, as Johnny wasn’t present during the conversations Jimmy had with his teacher and his mom when they each talked about verve.  While we could assume someone mentioned it while they’re all talking at Jimmy’s house after the play, for children, it’s better to show that than to leave it to an assumption.  Here, before Johnny asks, “What’s all this stuff about verve?” you might have Jimmy’s mom and/or Mrs. Lyons tell Jimmy that he really spoke his lines with verve.

This is an example of an author taking a shortcut to move the plot along.  But Marna is correct that Johnny’s question comes out of the blue and therefore puzzles the reader.

I addressed this by following Marna’s suggestion and adding a line before Johnny’s question:

“Well, Jimmy,” his mother says, “I guess Mrs. Lyons was right about using verve.”

With that line as a lead, Johnny’s question now makes sense.

I also thought Marna’s suggestion about the last line of the story was very important.  While I was pleased in my first draft with:

Howling, little Blackie sings right along.

Marna wrote:

This is a clever ending, but I think I’d revise slightly so as not to begin it with “Howling.”  Howling has the sense of being doleful, which changes the mental image.  Maybe you could revise it to show Blackie tossing his head back and singing along, or yipping happily and singing along.

It may be perceived as a little thing, but I think the new ending is a big improvement:

Yipping happily, little Blackie sings right along.

One other thing I love about Marna’s editing is that she throws out some positive reinforcement here and there.  Corrections and editorial suggestions can get an author down.  That’s why, I think, some positive strokes can go a long way to building a strong partnership between the author and editor.

As an example, in my ending letter “From Jimmy to You,” I write about a personal experience that was near and dear to my heart:

I walk over to that stage and place myself on the same spot where I stood as a child.  Looking out on an assembly hall, I imagine an audience.  I see my mom, dad, and nonna looking at me.  Then I raise my right hand, point my ringer to the rafters, and say with as much verve as I can muster,

            “Now that’s a good idea!”

Marna’s side bar was “I love that.”

A comment like that makes all the difference in the world . . . at least it did for me.