Line editing from a writer's point of view

A few weeks ago, an editor named Rob Bacon talked in his The Perfect Write® Newsletter about his concern for maintaining a writer's voice during the editing process. In my experience there are two kinds of editors, those who edit and those who rewrite. Unfortunately, there are a lot of the latter, who make changes arbitrarily and arrange things as they would do them, and you always want to say, "Hey, write your own story." It's these arrogant types that make writer's cringe at the mention of line editing.

When Rob told me he would spend 200 hours line editing my book I was horrified. The idea of someone, even a person as skilled and compassionate as Rob, working so in-depth on my precious words was intolerable. Surely my voice, my intent, the whole point of my writing would be lost, destroyed by the interloper, the evil editor. And I'd have to pay for it.
The fear didn't make much sense. I'd already worked with him for about a year. He patiently worked through four versions of The Oracle Bone, including one I wrote without using conjunctions, pronouns, adverbs and various other tools that I had decided in literary hubris to be perfect and without equal. I couldn't understand why the simpletons didn't like it. Rob saw the story in the mess and helped me find it during a development process I urge any writer serious about the craft to consider as important as paper and ink. It's a good idea to visit Rob's site
But during that work I was involved. With line editing, it was all Rob and someone else I'd never talked to, a dispassionate stranger with impeccable credentials who knew more than me and would drown my voice and leave me wondering who exactly wrote the book.
I knew it was important, that it had to be done because although the manuscript was glorious, it wasn't perfect -- as much as I envisioned it was -- and it needed minute attention to catch the little things that when scrubbed would allow it to shine ever brighter.
The prospect still bothered me. The fear came from the unknown. Even though I have years of experience as an editor at magazines and newspapers, I had no understanding of what line editing a book is. So I did it myself.
I spent the 200 hours, including putting the manuscript through a computer program that caught repeated words and phrases -- boy, did I like the word "great" -- and cliches and other redundancies. I discovered how many times I used the same words and descriptions and how changing those words didn't alter my voice, it improved it. A lot of the repeats came from pasting different versions into the finished product. Line editing catches all that and doesn't in the least change a writer's voice.
Line editing is like mopping a floor. When the soap and water dries, it's still a floor, but it sure looks a whole lot better. As intense as it is, line editing has nothing to do with changing a writer's voice or intent. Consider it this way. If the manuscript isn't solid to begin with, line editing isn't going to make it so. Mopping a dirt floor doesn't do any good.
But doing that kind of editing on your own manuscript is like giving yourself a haircut. You miss spots. As careful as I was, at least one mistake remains, which, of course, I found after publication.
Line editing is a tough job. I'm writing the follow-up to The Oracle Bone, and when it's time, I'm going to let the professional handle the cleanup and take all the credit for the "shiny floor."
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