Editing Principle 10: You Need to Know Whether You’re in the Business of Reminding People of Things They Already Know, or in the Business of Asking Them to Change Their Minds

This principle’s not for professional writers or even aspiring professional writers. It is more of an issue for clients who are cobbling together a communications strategy. But it’s a good question — for anyone, really, publishing anything. Here it is again:

You need to know whether you’re in the business of reminding people of things they already know or in the business of asking them to believe something new.

Which side you fall on has repercussions for your eventual structure. As do your answers to these questions:

1) Who’s going to read this?

2) Why? (You can’t know. But a good guess is useful.)

3) What types of responses have I had to my writing [ external communications / PR efforts ] in the past, and am I happy with those results?

4) Am I willing to risk being misunderstood or criticized if the upshot is more attention?

5) Whatever else I hope to achieve with this text, am I asking my audience to part with their money? i.e. buy something I’m selling? Or does the prospect of compensation leave me cold because I’ve different goals?

Editing Principle 09: Readers Want to Be Seen as Smart

You’re always better off flattering an audience’s intelligence. If your audience smells even mild condescension, you lose their sympathy and may not get it back.

But most condescension — in writing — is accidental. The most common way of unintentionally trying your audience’s patience is to elaborate on a concept that your audience doesn’t need to have elaborated.

Just remember what it’s like to not hear what someone said, beg the speaker’s pardon, and then hear him or her not simply repeat the phrase you missed — say, “Big Ten” — but actually explain the whole concept, starting from first principles. This is frustrating when you didn’t say “I’m sorry; What?” because you don’t know what NCAA basketball is. You simply didn’t hear, period.

If you feel compelled to (re)explain a familiar concept, find a novel, surprising way to phrase it. Or just preface your explanation with some variation on “As we all know….”

Editing Principle 08: You Don’t Always Know What You Don’t Know

Eight times out of ten, the context for any piece of writing is larger than the author initially imagines it to be, and the author only discovers this once the project is well underway. Part of an editor’s job is to have read widely and deeply enough to sense this larger context, and explain the implications.

Editing Principle 07: If You Really Love a Line, Let It Go

Editors sometimes use the phrase “Kill your babies.” By which they mean that the sentences the writer him- or herself loves the most often compromise the integrity of the whole piece. In order for the piece to survive (and accomplish its goal of actually communicating an idea), these sentences need to go. As in not leave your computer.

If “Kill your babies” sounds harsh, try “Murder your darlings,” which is how the author Arthur Quiller-Couch put it in 1914.

Why has this idea persisted? Our experience suggests it’s actually not so sinister. Nor is it a recommendation to blend in or reach for the widest possible audience. (That never works, anyway.)

Our theory is that one’s favorite sentences tend to be those that present shortcuts to a core component of your being. They are seeped in the way you think, and testify to the twisted, idiosyncratic pathways of your brain more than anything else. These sentences are invariably somewhat inscrutable. Only people who know you well can discern from them what, exactly, you intend to say.

Others won’t see the shortcut, or they’ll misread you and so read the remainder of the piece both uncomprehending and agitated.

Point being: You murder your darlings for the sake of clarity and influence.

UPDATE: More on the subject from Mike Dash: “You will find yourself struggling to shoehorn in a favorite story, piece of information, or anecdote. You will find yourself realizing that it doesn’t really fit, but you will love it so much that you keep it in the book anyway. And if you are honest with yourself, when it comes to doing the [revision], you will find yourself admitting that it doesn’t work and that it has to come out. With experience, you will learn to spot these dangerous interlopers, and recognize that you will save yourself a heap of trouble by excluding them from the get-go. Of course, this is just another take on Faulkner’s “Kill all your darlings,” but I hadn’t heard that quote until after I’d made precisely this mistake at least two or three times.”

Editing Principle 06: The Medium Seeps Into the Message

Content is not insensitive to the container it’s in. What works on printed pages does not always work on a screen, just as the tone of a blog post may not transfer well to a personal email.

One way to get in the habit of considering the suitability of content to container — and by extension, your audience’s needs — is to ask what a person who knew you but did not like you would conclude after reading your article / email / first-person essay.

Would they be more sympathetic, less sympathetic, or bored? This exercise can hurt. But sentences change in fascinating ways once you’ve undergone it.

Editing Principle 05: Rule of Odds

Odd numbers are better than even numbers.

One page is better than two pages. One paragraph is (usually) stronger than two. Three paragraphs tend to be more persuasive than four.

Generally speaking, odd numbers are more pleasing to the eye, and are experienced by readers / viewers / passersby as more calming.

This is (weird but) true for floral arrangements, piles of magazines on your coffee table, fish in a bowl — most anything, including the arrangement of text. Whether this deeply-ingrained aesthetic preference is due to nature or nurture, we couldn’t tell you, but we’ve come to treat it as fact.

Questions We’ll Ask

1. What do you need help with?
2. What do you like about what you’ve done so far?
3. What don’t you like?
4. What are your hopes for this material?
5. What does your ideal end result look like? i.e. How will we know when we’re done?

(Then you’re free to ask us anything you like, including but not limited to questions about fee structure, schedules, and past projects.)

Editing Principle 04: A Little Gristle Is Good

A short story writer once claimed her all-time favorite rejection letter was one in which the magazine editor had scrawled “THIS IS SH-T” in brown marker across the top.

Expletive written in brown marker is not the fastest route to lasting friendship but it’s memorable. It is not mealy-mouthed. It shows confidence. It sticks in the head. It sinks under the skin.

It’s also in extremely bad taste. Then again, most artists who move the culture forward are at some point, if not several points, accused of bad taste.

Artful work always contains something “off.” It contains surprise.*

But you have to know what you’re doing. “Off” certainly doesn’t have to mean impoliteness. It cannot be a tone or style one puts on like a jacket. It usually comes, simply and straightforwardly, from one’s own idiosyncratic thought patterns.

All this to say: a good editor will help you express your inner strangeness, and without hobbling your ability to reach an audience that may or may not think like you.

*UPDATE: “Surprise is the editor’s drug of choice.” —Susan Bell, The Artful Edit

Editing Principle 03: On the Internet, No One Knows You’re a Good Person

Tone is easily misread. Try to sound funny, and you wind up sounding smarmy. Try to appear authoritative, and instead you come across as chilly, distant, and pedantic. Attempt to be provocative, and you paint a self-portrait of a glib jerk.

All this to say: If you mean readers well, say so. If you want sweetness and light to fill your audience’s day, say so. Don’t assume they’ll assume your goodwill.

What does this have to do with editing? It’s easier for a writer to retain an audience’s attention if they get the sense that the writer cares for them.

There are subtle ways to suggest empathy. It can be as simple as respecting their time.

Editing Principle 02: Respect Your Audience’s Time

It is sadly true that you can never assume readers will read to the end. Few professional writers make that assumption (perhaps that makes them pros). Many writers actually feel compelled to win your attention anew with each sentence. For them, every sentence has to seduce.

How to decrease the odds of your audience quitting on you? Here are three ideas:

Short sentences. Examine each word and ask: “Does this need to be here? Will the sentence make sense without it?” If a word is inessential, cut it.

Eliminate repetition. Repeating words prompts readers to tune out. So using “innovative,” say, four times in a paragraph drains rather than adds meaning. Repeated adjectives are the biggest drainers of rhetorical punch, repeated nouns next. Repeated verbs are less of a problem, if only because they’re less common.

Check your use of -ings.

Seeing clearly what can safely go and what must stay takes practice. The more you do it, however, the quicker you’ll be able to cut out fat, and trust that nothing’s lost.

Our tenth-grade English teacher insisted: Revise paragraphs until you think them perfect. Then cut by half. Revise again.

This was good advice.

One more anecdote: When I was working as an editorial assistant, I had explicit instructions that book jacket copy was not to exceed 200 words. I once filed copy 207 words long. (Who knows why.) I then received a blistering phone call from a managing editor who wanted to know, in essence, what my problem was. I mention this only to suggest that if you think more words are more convincing, you may want to reconsider.

Strunk and White put it more sweetly in The Elements of Style: “Make every word tell.”