So it was a great relief to discover Thomas Umstattd Jr.’s podcast, Novel Marketing, a few years ago. If you’re trying to learn the ropes of writing and marketing and haven’t started listening to this podcast, start. Then warn your family the phrase “Thomas Umstattd Jr. says. . .” will start coming out of your mouth on a regular basis. Why? Because he knows what he’s talking about.
Which is why when Thomas Umstattd Jr. said every writer should work with a good editor, I listened. Especially since he wasn’t the only one saying it. Multi-award-winning author and former podcast cohost, James L. Rubart, said it too. Repeatedly. He compared not working with an editor to trying to read a ketchup label from inside the bottle. Or something like that. (It made a lot more sense when he said it.)
The point is, I knew hiring an editor was the smart thing to do. And yet. . .
Last year I wrote a novella. A novella I revised, edited, and revised several more times, then polished polished polished until it was ready. So ready I couldn’t help thinking maybe I didn’t need that editor after all.
I mean, it wasn’t like I was shooting for critical acclaim with this story. Neither was I aiming to hit any best seller list. No, my only objective was to write a cute story to give away to newsletter subscribers for free.
Did you catch the for free part?
Then maybe you can understand why, after working countless hours on a story that would never earn me a penny, I hesitated to add a chunk of hard-earned cash into hiring an editor. Especially one I doubted I needed.
But those two podcast voices kept yammering inside my head. Every story needs an editor. . . Your best marketing tool is your writing. . . Beware the ketchup bottle. . .
So I did it—mostly to quiet the voices in my head. I hired an editor. A good one, even though part of me believed I was wasting my money on a three-legged donkey. Other than fixing a few commas and adjusting the occasional word choice, what else was this editor going to do?
Well, turns out this editor was going to ask questions. Lots of questions.
Why did your character say this? What does that dialogue mean? Can you think of a better way to express this? Are you sure that could happen? Have you actually tried placing that many socks over a pair of high heels?
By the third round of revisions, part of me wanted to yell, “Look lady, I’m not paying you to ask questions. Just fix the commas.” But the other part me couldn’t deny the truth. She was asking good questions. Valid questions. Questions that deserved answers.
Which meant digging a little deeper into the story. And digging a little deeper into myself as a writer. And digging a little deeper into my sock drawer to prove that placing several layers of fuzzy socks over a pair of high heels is absolutely possible.
By the end of the process, when all the questions had been answered, the final revisions made, the story completed, I realized three things.
One—I never wanted to read my story again.
Two—I felt so much more confident about others reading my story.
Three—I’d survived a trip to the flea market to return home with a very cute scarf. And the good news? Not a single penny I spent had been wasted.
