The copy-editing process
Dec. 13th, 2005 10:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pbrayRecommended supplies for dealing with copy-edits:
At least 2 freshly sharpened green pencils
1 pencil sharpener (I will obsessively sharpen the pencils throughout the process)
1 artist's eraser
1 pad of small Post-it notes or tape flags
Scrap paper or notepad
Reference sheet of CE symbols & abbreviations
Caffeine, chocolate and alcohol
For those who are curious the details are
Here's how I handle copy-edits. It may not be the best way, but it works for me.
When the package arrives I open it up, read the cover letter to find out when the CE's are due back to the publisher, and then read the list of queries. At Zebra the queries were indicated in the manuscript with post-it notes, but Bantam helpful compiles them together so you can see them all at once. Looking at the queries, I get a sense of how much work is required. Are these minor manuscript changes or will I have to rewrite entire pages?
I now ignore the package. I've got time, and I work better under pressure.
As the deadline approaches, I reopen the package and assemble my supplies. I start by reading the author queries again, and making notes on how I want to handle each of them.
Then I read through the manuscript. When I see something that needs to be changed, I flag it with a post-it note. The note usually has a scribbled word or two, such as STET? or Rephrase. Keep in mind that while I am deeply grateful when the copy-editor catches my mistakes, my knee-jerk reaction to other changes is often along the lines of "How dare she change the words that I have written?"
As I come across each of the author queries, I make the changes required and document in my notepad how I've handled. In this manuscript the queries ranged from adding or deleting a single word to responding to a suggestion on how to handle references to a character who has multiple personalities.
After this pass, I begin the cooling-off period. This gives me time to acknowledge that the copy-editor has raised valid points. When I'm ready, I pick up the manuscript which bristles with 80+ post-it notes. I now go back, and take a look at each note.
In some cases, I decide that I agree with the change. For example, my personal preference is to write dove rather than dived, but I understand this is a house style issue, and I let the change stand.
In other cases, I recognize that a change needed to be made, but the fix the copy-editor has suggested doesn't work for me. I'll cross out her change and put in my own correction.
Finally we get to the changes that I truly can't live with. Here is where I will disagree and write STET. The trick with STET is to choose your battles carefully. You don't want to get the reputation of being difficult to work with, or an author who doesn't understand the need for copy-editing. If every page of your manuscript is covered with STET marks, you'd better have a damn good reason, and you'll need to explain that in a cover letter up front.
Back in my Zebra days, I was once the victim of the freelance copy-editor known as "the semi-colon queen." Her particular style was to replace nearly every comma with a semi-colon, while completely overlooking various spelling errors and typos. In my manuscript she apparently ran out of time, for the first half of it was filled with semi-colons, while there were virtually no corrections in the remainder of the manuscript.
I e-mailed my editor to let him know about the problem, and that I was STET'ing the semi-colons. My editor e-mailed me back that he agreed with my STET'ing the changes and would make sure the changes were honored by production. I'm sure it helped that he knew from my previous manuscripts that I wasn't someone who objected to every single change.
In this case, when I finished with the copy-edits on THE FIRST BETRAYAL, I had 25 STET's, many related to the words here and now, which I'd described in an earlier post.
I now write the cover letter to my editor. Being completely anal-retentive, not only have I marked up the author query sheets with brief explanations of the changes made, I now document my response to each query in the cover letter.
I take the manuscript to Kinko's and drop forty bucks making a photocopy of everything. This is my insurance in case the package is destroyed en route, and gives me something to refer back to when the galleys arrive. The photocopy will eventually make it into my project box.
The entire package gets boxed up, and shipped overnight. I then go out for celebration dinner.
Reasons why I am grateful to my copy-editor:
The copy-editor helps me look my best. She's the friend who points out that you've got marinara sauce on your shirt, or that those shoes and pants really don't go together. She's the personal organizer who remembers when everyone's birthday is, and that Harold's new girlfriend is named Lisa, not Jill. When I'm convinced that I've thoroughly cleaned the room, she's the white-gloved inspector who finds the dust bunnies that I've missed.
She's not perfect, and I don't always agree with the changes that she makes. But in the end, she helps make the manuscript better, and that makes me look good to my readers.
At least 2 freshly sharpened green pencils
1 pencil sharpener (I will obsessively sharpen the pencils throughout the process)
1 artist's eraser
1 pad of small Post-it notes or tape flags
Scrap paper or notepad
Reference sheet of CE symbols & abbreviations
Caffeine, chocolate and alcohol
For those who are curious the details are
Here's how I handle copy-edits. It may not be the best way, but it works for me.
When the package arrives I open it up, read the cover letter to find out when the CE's are due back to the publisher, and then read the list of queries. At Zebra the queries were indicated in the manuscript with post-it notes, but Bantam helpful compiles them together so you can see them all at once. Looking at the queries, I get a sense of how much work is required. Are these minor manuscript changes or will I have to rewrite entire pages?
I now ignore the package. I've got time, and I work better under pressure.
As the deadline approaches, I reopen the package and assemble my supplies. I start by reading the author queries again, and making notes on how I want to handle each of them.
Then I read through the manuscript. When I see something that needs to be changed, I flag it with a post-it note. The note usually has a scribbled word or two, such as STET? or Rephrase. Keep in mind that while I am deeply grateful when the copy-editor catches my mistakes, my knee-jerk reaction to other changes is often along the lines of "How dare she change the words that I have written?"
As I come across each of the author queries, I make the changes required and document in my notepad how I've handled. In this manuscript the queries ranged from adding or deleting a single word to responding to a suggestion on how to handle references to a character who has multiple personalities.
After this pass, I begin the cooling-off period. This gives me time to acknowledge that the copy-editor has raised valid points. When I'm ready, I pick up the manuscript which bristles with 80+ post-it notes. I now go back, and take a look at each note.
In some cases, I decide that I agree with the change. For example, my personal preference is to write dove rather than dived, but I understand this is a house style issue, and I let the change stand.
In other cases, I recognize that a change needed to be made, but the fix the copy-editor has suggested doesn't work for me. I'll cross out her change and put in my own correction.
Finally we get to the changes that I truly can't live with. Here is where I will disagree and write STET. The trick with STET is to choose your battles carefully. You don't want to get the reputation of being difficult to work with, or an author who doesn't understand the need for copy-editing. If every page of your manuscript is covered with STET marks, you'd better have a damn good reason, and you'll need to explain that in a cover letter up front.
Back in my Zebra days, I was once the victim of the freelance copy-editor known as "the semi-colon queen." Her particular style was to replace nearly every comma with a semi-colon, while completely overlooking various spelling errors and typos. In my manuscript she apparently ran out of time, for the first half of it was filled with semi-colons, while there were virtually no corrections in the remainder of the manuscript.
I e-mailed my editor to let him know about the problem, and that I was STET'ing the semi-colons. My editor e-mailed me back that he agreed with my STET'ing the changes and would make sure the changes were honored by production. I'm sure it helped that he knew from my previous manuscripts that I wasn't someone who objected to every single change.
In this case, when I finished with the copy-edits on THE FIRST BETRAYAL, I had 25 STET's, many related to the words here and now, which I'd described in an earlier post.
I now write the cover letter to my editor. Being completely anal-retentive, not only have I marked up the author query sheets with brief explanations of the changes made, I now document my response to each query in the cover letter.
I take the manuscript to Kinko's and drop forty bucks making a photocopy of everything. This is my insurance in case the package is destroyed en route, and gives me something to refer back to when the galleys arrive. The photocopy will eventually make it into my project box.
The entire package gets boxed up, and shipped overnight. I then go out for celebration dinner.
Reasons why I am grateful to my copy-editor:
The copy-editor helps me look my best. She's the friend who points out that you've got marinara sauce on your shirt, or that those shoes and pants really don't go together. She's the personal organizer who remembers when everyone's birthday is, and that Harold's new girlfriend is named Lisa, not Jill. When I'm convinced that I've thoroughly cleaned the room, she's the white-gloved inspector who finds the dust bunnies that I've missed.
She's not perfect, and I don't always agree with the changes that she makes. But in the end, she helps make the manuscript better, and that makes me look good to my readers.
