Top five stupid things I did as an author: #1
#1: Distribute an unedited manuscript to a book club to beta-read.
Most terrible ideas hatch impulsively. Hence the reason I thought this was an ingenious way to receive unbiased feedback from a pack of strangers who critique the genre. Oh boy, I could incorporate all that fantastic advice before the editorial evaluation, saving time and money. Sure, a wee bit risky, but I have years of experience as a proof-reader.
While boxing the copies with fondness, I spied some typos that had escaped my eagle eye. Yup, science is correct—writers can’t effectively proof their own work. Since the delivery deadline was the next day, I stupidly thought, “Well, they know it’s a first draft, what are a few typos amongst friends?”
Hum... after the dreadful copies had been delivered for distribution, it occurred to me that they weren’t friends—I didn’t know anything about the people in the book club and scarcely knew the woman acting as the go-between. Oops, maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant idea.
I heard from the group. The email was vague. Understandable, considering that the novel spent six months in editing, the premise changed and the structural edits transformed the ending. The published novel barely resembles the dribble eagerly sent to the book club. I realized that I'd moved from a questionable idea to outright dumb.
After the book’s release, I emailed the book club member and apologized for forcing her group to suffer such a terrible first attempt. I offered (begged) to send her a copy of the published book so she could see the improvements. She accepted the invitation, requesting I send an electronic copy to her work email. My eyes widened in horror as I read the email address. The city library. Worse, she worked in acquisitions! I had sent an unedited manuscript to the acquisition team.
Lesson = you cannot edit or proof your own work. You are too close to it. I’ve heard from (argued with) authors who claim to be great proof-readers. I’m sure you are... but you can’t proof your work. Get over your bad self!
By the way, the city public library did accept the novel and invited me to be the first participant in a new Local Author program. Owning your mistakes is worthwhile. Learning from them and sharing them with self-effacing humour is priceless.
Most terrible ideas hatch impulsively. Hence the reason I thought this was an ingenious way to receive unbiased feedback from a pack of strangers who critique the genre. Oh boy, I could incorporate all that fantastic advice before the editorial evaluation, saving time and money. Sure, a wee bit risky, but I have years of experience as a proof-reader.
While boxing the copies with fondness, I spied some typos that had escaped my eagle eye. Yup, science is correct—writers can’t effectively proof their own work. Since the delivery deadline was the next day, I stupidly thought, “Well, they know it’s a first draft, what are a few typos amongst friends?”
Hum... after the dreadful copies had been delivered for distribution, it occurred to me that they weren’t friends—I didn’t know anything about the people in the book club and scarcely knew the woman acting as the go-between. Oops, maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant idea.
I heard from the group. The email was vague. Understandable, considering that the novel spent six months in editing, the premise changed and the structural edits transformed the ending. The published novel barely resembles the dribble eagerly sent to the book club. I realized that I'd moved from a questionable idea to outright dumb.
After the book’s release, I emailed the book club member and apologized for forcing her group to suffer such a terrible first attempt. I offered (begged) to send her a copy of the published book so she could see the improvements. She accepted the invitation, requesting I send an electronic copy to her work email. My eyes widened in horror as I read the email address. The city library. Worse, she worked in acquisitions! I had sent an unedited manuscript to the acquisition team.
Lesson = you cannot edit or proof your own work. You are too close to it. I’ve heard from (argued with) authors who claim to be great proof-readers. I’m sure you are... but you can’t proof your work. Get over your bad self!
By the way, the city public library did accept the novel and invited me to be the first participant in a new Local Author program. Owning your mistakes is worthwhile. Learning from them and sharing them with self-effacing humour is priceless.
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