For Beginners

I sat behind a small table just inside the bookstore waiting for someone to ask me to sign a copy of my book, The Meister's Approach to Writing, when a fiery redheaded woman with a bright blue notebook tucked under her arm darted through the door.

"Have you started, yet?" She plopped her notebook on the table in front of me. "Where is everyone? Did I miss your lecture?"

I told her since the Columbia disaster apparently kept most people from coming, I canceled my lecture. But I would talk to her one-on-one.

She said that was even better and fired questions at me. "I'm writing a horror book. Do you know a good book on horror writing?1 Are there any critique groups in town that can critique horror? Do you know anyone locally who can edit horror? What do you think about your work being rewritten?"

I reveal what happened with my first published story. "When I received a copy of the magazine, I found the editor had used a sentence or two of mine in the beginning, then another sentence in the middle and one at the end. The rest of the story he rewrote."

The woman's face turned the color of her hair. "Didn't that just infuriate you?"

"Not at all."

Her mouth dropped. "How could that not make you madder than blue blazes?"

"I didn't take it as an insult."

"You didn't?"

"No. I set my copy of the story next to the published copy. Then I studied the two and tried to figure out why he rewrote it. After discovering the differences between the two, I understood what the editor wanted. I sold six more stories to that magazine before they changed editors and format. Four of those were cover stories."

"Four cover stories?" The lady tapped her pen against her chin. "I never thought about that."

"Many beginners don't. They think their words are carved in stone and can't be changed. If I would not have learned from it, I probably would never have submitted another story to that magazine.

"You should be thrilled if an editor wants to help you by rewriting your story. You can learn so much from a magazine's rewrite. And, by not complaining about it, you will be known as someone who is willing to do the work required to produce a desirable manuscript. Complaining will almost guarantee one of two things the next time you send a story to the magazine: The manuscript will be sent back unread, or it will end up at the bottom of the slush pile. Wouldn't you rather have it rewritten and published than to not have it read at all?"

"I sure would." The woman gathered up her notebook. "Thanks. I don't think I'll ever look at an editor's rewrite the same, again." Then she sauntered out of the store without buying a copy of my book. That was okay. At least I had taught one person editors are not out to ruin anyone's writing, but to improve it.