Jessica Barnes brings years of experience to the table, knows the publishing industry, has an instinct for storytelling, and has a great bedside manner as she dissects authors’ work. In addiction to providing me with invaluable feedback about how to improve my book and make it more marketable, she generously gave more of her time so I could interview her about the ins and outs of editing fiction. I hope you’ll find her responses as informative as I did.

LR: First off, do you do any writing yourself?

Jessica: I dabble a bit, and I do enjoy writing, but I realized a couple years ago that I’m a much better editor than I am a writer. As a famous fiction editor named Ellen Seligman once said, “What I am is the ideal reader, not the ideal imaginer.” That describes me to a T. So yes, I do write. Just not with what you’d call purpose.

LR: Why did you decide to become an editor?

Jessica: I’ve always been a reader, a lover of fiction. I wanted to be involved in the making of stories, because story and fiction is so important to culture and society–there’s a reason morality and wisdom has been passed down through storytelling since the beginning of civilization.

Wow. That sounded really pretentious. Mostly, I just love books and wanted to work with books. Editor seemed to be the way to go.

LR: How did you become one?

Jessica: I was an English major in college, and I had this vague idea that editing books would be a cool job, but I didn’t really know how one went about it or what it involved.I took creative writing classes, where I learned about good writing and how to put a story together, and then after college I went to this mini-grad school / summer course called the Denver Publishing Institute. There, in a month, you learn about all the different aspects of publishing, try your hand at some editing and marketing, and meet a lot of industry people. I somehow managed to land a job at a publishing company as an assistant after that, and it turned out all my reading and my writing courses had given me an instinct for good story and good writing.

LR: So you can get a job with an English major. Good to know!

Was an English or writing major required for the Denver Publishing Institute? Are there other such programs available to would-be editors?

Jessica: No, you didn’t have to be an English major to apply for the Publishing Institute. There were people there from other countries, people making career changes, people in related fields that wanted some background in publishing, and, of course, a ton of college students dying to get into the publishing field. The Denver Publishing Institute at Denver University and the Summer Publishing Institute at New York University are the only two summer publishing courses that I know of, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more.

LR: What’s your typical editing process?

Jessica: Editing is an incredibly subjective, gut-instinct kind of process. It’s reading a book, saying “I don’t like this” about an element, figuring out what isn’t working and then how to fix it. There are some black-and-white rules, but in writing, the rules get broken just as often as they get followed, so you can’t rely on them. It’s more about evaluating the experience of the book, making sure it’s as strong and has as great an impact on the reader as possible.

Generally when working with a manuscript, I start big and work my way down to the details. I usually read the manuscript all the way through first, perhaps making some notes on my initial impressions about plot elements or character interactions. Then I read it through again, more slowly and carefully, looking at the plot and structure of the book as a whole, identifying the weak spots, and brainstorming ways to make them stronger. At that point, usually, I give the author my notes and suggestions so they can make some revisions to the book, strengthen those weak spots. Then, on my third pass, I look at the nitty-gritty details and the actual writing. This is the stage where the manuscript gets marked up so that it “bleeds red”–trimming unnecessary words, rephrasing passive voice or clunky passages, making sure all the details are consistent. The author gets it back, goes over my changes, makes any changes they’d like, and then the manuscript is ready for the copy editors!

LR: And how does the copy editing process differ from what you do?

Jessica: Copy editing is the nitty-gritty detailed editing work–punctuation, spelling, formatting, those obscure grammar rules that most of us don’t even know exist. They check facts, making sure everything is accurate and correct. They catch consistency mistakes, they question details that might not, under scrutiny, make sense. Copy editors are amazing and undervalued. They make the author (and the editor) look good, and they rarely ever get credit for their efforts.

LR: How do publishers assign editors to authors?

Jessica: Every publishing house does this a little differently, but in most of them, an editor acquires their own authors. They read the author’s proposal, liked it, bought the book, and take it from there. So in a sense, the editors assign themselves to authors.

LR: So are editors the people who actually field book proposals from agents and read and accept manuscripts for a publisher?

Jessica: Usually, at least in the houses I’m familiar with. The agents communicate directly with the editors on what they’re looking for and pass them proposals. Sometimes these might go through the editorial assistants, but the assistants are more usually digging through the “slush pile” of unsolicitied submissions. But because the editors and agents have a relationship, they work directly with each other. Editors read the submissions from agents and decide which proposals they like enough to take to the acquisition committee, where the rest of the company editors along with some sales and marketing folks evaluate proposals and decide which ones to buy and publish, based on quality, marketability, and how many copies they think they can sell.

LR: How different is a manuscript after you’ve worked on it? Do authors have much input on the editing process?

Jessica: How different a manuscript is after I’m done with it compared to when it came in really depends on the project. I’ve had books on which I did very little–just polished it up, mostly–and I’ve had books in which I gave the author an entire new outline for the latter half of their  book. Most of the time, it falls somewhere in the middle. Maybe 25% of the book changes significantly.

For me, editing is a very collaborative process. I’m very aware, as I work, that this is not MY book. It’s the author’s. The author is trusting me to look at it objectively and make suggestions for how to make it better. Most authors understand this as well, so it’s a very rewarding experience, working hand-in-hand with someone to shape their vision into the best possible version. I love brainstorming with authors, trying to figure out a sticky point in the plot or a way to rewrite this scene so that it accomplishes everything it needs to. In the end, however, the book is the author’s work, and they have the final word. (Doesn’t mean I won’t argue with them a little, but in the end, it’s their call.)

LR: How do authors typically respond to your feedback? Have you ever encountered a really stubborn author who refused your advice and then reception of the book suffered for it?

Jessica: Most of the authors I’ve worked with are favorable to editorial feedback, because they understand I’m helping them, not attacking them. I’ve been lucky that the situation in which a book suffers because an author and I couldn’t work together hasn’t happened to me. Though I’m sure other editors would have a different story for you.

“Try to get it published,” I reply.

“Well duh,” says the friend or family member, “but how do you do that?”

“Simple,” I say.  “All it takes is faith and trust, and a little bit of pixie dust.”

My friend or family member’s eyebrows scrunch.  “Isn’t that how you fly?”

Oh, right.  I sometimes get mixed up, because getting published can seem about as impossible as flying.

The good news is, while no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to fly (somewhere, a fairy just fell down dead from my implication that there’s no such thing as pixie dust), persistent work may land me a publishing contract.  If I get lucky.  (See, I do believe in fairies, as well as their dust.)

What I’ve discovered inquiring non-writer minds want to know is:  what exactly is that work which, combined with luck, gets a writer published?  That’s what I’m here to tell you.

The Pitch

Once I’ve completed a novel, I must then reduce those 50-100,000 carefully chosen words to 100 or fewer even more carefully chosen words that summarize what my novel is about, capture my tone and style, and make a stranger want to read my book.  Think back cover blurb.

It sounds easy to write a pitch if you’ve already managed to complete a novel, but don’t ever say that to a writer.  Writing a novel is the easy part.  Pitches make writers curl up into the fetal position and wish they’d worked harder at math.

The Agent

If the purpose of the pitch is to make someone want to read my book, then it logically follows that there’s an audience for my pitch.  That would be where literary agents come in.

One upon a time, writers could pitch novels directly to publishers.  In the current economic climate, publishers can’t afford to bank on books that won’t sell.  Since there are thousands of writers trying to get published, the easiest way for publishers to find the novels that will make the New York Times bestsellers list is to consider only work that comes to them via literary agencies.  Agents weed out the drivel and the dreck from  thousands of submissions because they don’t make any money unless publishers pick up their clients.  (An agent typically receives a 15% commission from a book’s total earnings.)

It’s easy for writers to find agents, because we have our own yellow pages of sorts.  The Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market lists the contact info for hundreds of literary agents.  I prefer to use AgentQuery — same info, but free, and also searchable by genre.

The Query

Armed with a pitch and a list of agents, I begin the query process, which consists of emailing and snail-mailing my pitch to agents.  At first contact, most agents only want to see a pitch; a few will, additionally, ask for a detailed synopsis of the entire novel; even fewer will ask for the pitch and the first couple of pages; fewer still ask for a couple of chapters along with the pitch.  Whatever the agent’s submission requirements, I have very little with which to make a big impression!

The Response

More often than not, my queries are met with rejection letters.  That’s something you have to prepare yourself for if you’re going to seek publication:  you will get rejected.  Again and again.  It sucks, but you have to deal with it.

I deal with it by expecting to be rejected; that way I’m never disappointed (well, not much, and not for long), just pleasantly surprised.

So far, I’ve pitched Songs for Piano and Voice to fourteen agents.  Seven of those fourteen agents gave me flat nos (including a few “dear author” form rejections).  Six haven’t responded, though three I don’t expect will at all, as they specify in their submission guidelines that they only respond to projects that interest them.

One agent has responded positively to my pitch.  She asked to read my first five pages to see if my style suited her representation.  Oddly, as I composed this post, she replied to decline my project.

If she’d liked my pages, however, she probably would have asked to read the rest of my manuscript or a chapter-by-chapter summary.  And if she’d liked that, she probably would have offered to represent me.  Then she would have begun the task of shopping my book to publishers.

Rejection stings (content more so than a simple query), but I remain hopeful that someday I’ll tweak the verb tense in the previous paragraph.  Until then, I’ll continue to query.  After all, I’ve only queried fourteen agents out of hundreds.  And I do believe in fairies, and their dust.

And that’s what you do after you finish writing a novel.  Questions?

Piano teacher to prepubescent video game addicts…driver of a jalopy that might once upon a time have been a Honda (though no one knows for sure)…prematurely balding…divorced: hardly the life of sophistication and beauty John Marks envisioned when he embarked on a music career. He’s no catch, yet he catches the starry eye of Laura Lovelace, a music student at his old university who initiates their relationship by making fun of his name (which has something to do with a famous nudist and an American president) and disagreeing with his favorite maxim. Though he swore off singers after his ex, John’s nosey pastor’s wife urges him to step into the dubious role of mentor to Laura. Which, apparently, involves playing sheriff (literally, in costume, complete with fake guns) at the parties of substance-abusing music students–but with the bonus of securing his place as Laura’s knight in shining armor–until she discovers that his heart is protected by an entirely different sort of armor, which hid the identity of his ex. Leaving him with yet another ex–and more broken career dreams–unless he can learn to accept himself (receding hairline, rattletrap car, and all).

Ever wanted to read what I spend all that time holed up in my home office writing?  (Ever wondered if I really write anything at all?)  Now you can, because I’ve published the first 16 chapters of my novel, Songs for Piano and Voice, at Authonomy. I’m hopeful this site will help me get published or find an agent, but at the very least I expect I’ll get some helpful feedback. Which is where you guys come in.

Authonomy was set up by the HarperCollins publishing company to help emerging writers get noticed. The way to get noticed is to appear on the bookshelves and watch lists of members, and, of course, to get lots of comments. Each month, an editorial board from the publisher selects the top five rated books to be professionally reviewed. Not only is this a source of invaluable feedback, but it has even led to publishing deals.

You have to register at the site in order to comment on books posted there, but if you could spare a moment to do that (it’s a simple matter of registering your email address and creating a password and screenname) and leave a review saying you loved it, hated it, or have an idea that would make it better, I would be extremely grateful.  And if you’re an avid reader who enjoys promoting the work of aspiring authors, take a nose around the site and read and comment on other books.

Above all, I’m delighted to give this sneak peek of my work.  I hope you enjoy!

That was in an agent bio I read yesterday.  Now, she certainly has the credentials to justify name dropping, but it made me laugh nonetheless. Because it made me think of The Office:  “I’m Dwight Schrute, Assistant Regional Manager” and Michael cutting in, “Assistant to the Regional Manager.”  Finding things to laugh about is how I cope with the stress of the agent hunt.  (Actually, it’s how I cope with most stressful things, but this post is not about other stressful things.)

A few of my readers might be writers, and so you’ll know well the process I’m about to describe — and may not have any interest in reliving it!  But for those of you who have ever wondered what happens after a writer has finished a novel and before it’s published, this is what we go through.

After months, or even years (I started my first draft in April, 2008, and finished it in August, 2009), writing, editing and polishing your novel, making it the best it can possibly be, you’ve then got to summarize the entire scope of this 100 thousand word manuscript into a measly 100 words. That’s right:  all you have to sell your novel to an agent, who then must try to sell your novel to a publisher, is 100 words.  And it’s not just your novel you’ve got to sell.  In much fewer than 100 words, you’ve also got to sell yourself as a marketable commodity even if you have zero publications to your name and little writing experience apart from a few short stories in college.  Nothing makes you feel more vulnerable than sending that off to agents whose clients include bestsellers and award winners.  You hit “send” and then are left to wonder whether your novel will sound like the stupidest, most trite bit of writing ever to appear in their inbox.  It’s enough to make you lose sleep, throw up everything you eat (if you can eat at all), chew your nails down to the quicks,or  get really drunk.  Certainly you will check your email compulsively every five minutes.

Fellow writers, this need not be! I have developed the perfect no-stress method for querying agents:

Wait until the last 2-4 weeks of your pregnancy. Querying agents is a great distraction from waiting for your water to break, and nesting the excitement of the impending birth of your child is a great distraction from awaiting replies. And then, when you do receive three rejection letters out of your first four queries, you can’t even really feel that disappointed, because you’ve got a little bundle of joy and unconditional love and acceptance on the way.  It’s an absolutely foolproof strategy, I tell you!

Okay, so it’s really only foolproof if you happen to be pregnant.  What if you don’t have the distraction of a coming baby while you’re in the querying process?  How do you cope with the inevitable rejection?  Because you will be rejected.  Maybe once. Maybe twice.  Maybe three times.  (I was, three times, in the space of 12 hours.)  Maybe more.  Almost certainly more, the more queries you send out.  (And the more agents you query, the more likely you are to find one who wants to represent you.)  How do you deal with the negative responses?

I choose to deal with my rejection letters on a case-by-case basis, looking beyond the “no” for what each agent is really saying about my query.  Here are some examples of my recent rejections.

Rejection Letter #1: The Form Letter

“Dear Author:

Thank you so much for…your query. We’d like to apologize for the impersonal nature of this standard rejection letter. Rest assured that we do read every query letter carefully and, unfortunately, this project is not right for us. Because this business is so subjective and opinions vary widely, we recommend that you pursue other agents. After all, it just takes one “yes” to find the right match.”

On the one hand, I really hate form rejections. They’re so impersonal. Though I think impersonal can be a big help in getting over the rejection, because, obviously, it’s not personal.

At first blush, rejection tends to make me feel embarrassed about the material I sent. The agent must be sitting at her desk laughing her butt off at my terrible pitch and my utter lack of writing experience. How audacious of someone like me to contact someone like her about representing my “work”!

But the truth is, with a form rejection, you can rest assured that the agent is so busy that she’s completely moved on from your query by the time they hit “send.”  You may be a reject, but you’re also a forgotten reject.  Drink deeply of the waters of Lethe!

Rejection #2: The Break-up

“Thanks so much for offering me the chance to consider your material. Unfortunately, your project does not seem right for me. It’s important that you find an agent who will represent you to the best of his or her ability, so I’m going to have to step aside from asking to represent your manuscript.

You should know that my decision reflects my present work-load, and the type and amount of material which I’m presently representing. It does not reflect on your material, and I certainly encourage you to continue to seek representation, especially since this is such a subjective business — what works for one agent or publisher may not work as well for another (I’m afraid, though, that I cannot recommend someone for it).

Our website…contains a wealth of information for writers. You can learn more about some of the projects I represent by visiting the website.

Also, please keep in mind that I welcome queries for exciting new projects from authors who have previously submitted other projects to me.

Best of luck!

Think of rejections as the ultimate “it’s not you, it’s me.”  Which may not seem entirely comforting at the moment, much as it’s not in a breakup, but it’s just as true.  That agent is not right for your project.  She pays her bills by taking on projects she can sell.  Think about that: projects she can sell, not projects that are sellable.  Another agent will be able to sell your project.  But if you give up, you’ll never find The One.

Rejection #3: The Encouragement

Thank you so much for giving [me] a chance to consider your work. While I found your query intriguing I’m afraid I wasn’t sufficiently enthusiastic to ask for more at this time.

As I’m sure you know, publishing is a subjective business and I’m sure there’s another agent out there better suited to your work.

I wish you the best of luck and the greatest success.

Again the “it’s not you, it’s me” line, but more explicit this time.  What stands out to me in this rejection is that the agent specifically mentions my query.  She even gives it an adjective: intriguing.  So now I know that I’m not going about this all wrong, that I don’t need to scrap my pitch and start over.  It’s intriguing.  Some other agent, Mr. or Ms. Right, will find it intriguing enough to make them enthusiastic and ask for a sample of the novel.  A real agent said so.  She did not grant me permission to throw up my hands in discouragement to give up this search.  She told me to get my nose back in the Writer’s Marketplace (lately I’ve been using AgentQuery because it’s an online database — a free online database! — searchable by genre, with hyperlinks to agent websites) and pitch my novel to more agents.

To recap, the lessons I’ve learned from my first three rejection letters for this project so far are as follows:

1. Agents will forget about your query. So forget about their rejection.

2. It’s not you, it’s them.

3. The market is very subjective.  Agents have opinions about the books they sell, just as you have opinions about the books you read.  The only opinion that matters is the opinion of the agent who asks to represent your work.

4. Look for encouragement where you can and cling to it.

5. There are more fish in the sea.

One of my college writing professors had the best perspective ever on rejection. He often said, “I’m not a working writer unless I’m getting a lot of rejection letters.”  Whatever responses you get, know that as long as you are querying, you are a working writer.  The second you give up, you cease to work.

Yesterday I found Nicholas Sparks’ literary agent.  Reckon she’d take on my romance?  A bit ambitious — but a little query never hurt anyone.

On a housekeeping note, you may notice that the comment form at the bottom of posts has changed.  No longer must you be a registered user of lrburt.com to respond.  You will still be required to identify yourself by name and a viable email address (I have too much trouble with spam bots if I open anonymous posting), but you don’t have to worry about remembering a password anymore.  And, if you prefer, you can comment using Open ID or your Facebook, Twitter, or Yahoo account.  Also, the new setup allows for comment threads.  I hope this makes it easier for us to interact on my site!