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Marginal Notes

Authorial Blindness


Next week, I'm being interviewed by Teddy Smith of The Publishing Performance Show. In the pre--interview interview, he and I talked about what writers most need to know before self--publishing. The answer I came down on is actually true of all writers, whether you plan to self--publish or not -- you can't see the problems with your own work. Understand, I'm speaking from personal experience here. Ruth, my wife and business partner, edits everything I write and sees things I don't, even after I've gone over an article a dozen times.

The question came up in the context of self--publishing because, some years ago, I was contacted by an author who wanted me to edit her manuscript. I was expecting a stack of printer paper (this was a while ago) and instead received a hardback book. She had thought she was ready to self--publish and only realized she wasn't when her sales didn't crack three digits. Another time, a fan sent me a copy of his self--published book, with a thank--you note saying he had learned a lot from Self--Editing for Fiction Writers. I opened it up at random and was itching to get my editing pencil after only two paragraphs.


When you first start out, the blindness problem is mostly because of the Dunning--Krueger Effect. For those of you unfamiliar with it, the Dunning--Krueger Effect is the tendency to overestimate your expertise in a subject you know little about. Essentially, when you don't know much, you can't know how much you don't know.

Beginning writers usually have no idea how many different moving parts a novel has -- matters of pace, backstory, character development, setting, tension building -- and how those various bits and bobs play together or not. Mistakes get made and potential gets missed simply because writers don't know enough to look for them.

As you learn more about writing, the Dunning--Krueger effect starts to disappear. You can learn to see the mistakes you made as a beginner. For me, it was starting way too many paragraphs with a conjunction and using the word "also" to the point where it started sounding like a verbal hiccup.


Even as you learn your craft enough to see what you've been missing, you will still be blind to large parts of your story. The standard explanation is that you're too close to it. What this means is, you know the entire context -- what the current scene means, where it will lead, how it is affecting characters in ways that will eventually be revealed. If you're doing it right, you love the characters you've created and already know everything about them. This deep familiarity makes it hard to judge how your readers will react as they're reading your story for the first time.

As an editor, I need to come to a manuscript with fresh eyes. That's why I ask potential clients not to tell me anything about their story before I read it for the first time, because knowing things in advance makes it less likely I'll spot missed opportunities. I rarely agree to line--edit something a second time, unless a client has rewritten it pretty heavily. By the time I've done one detailed edit, I'm so close to the story that I can be nearly as blind to its faults as the writer.


The solution to authorial blindness is to bring fresh eyes to your manuscript. You can do this through beta readers, though there are some dangers there. You can [ADVT!!] hire a professional editor. You can put your manuscript in a drawer for a couple of weeks and take another look. However you do it, when you finally see what you've been missing, it can be discouraging to see that the novel you've come to love is . . . well, crap. Don't be discouraged. Every writer, even some of the most successful, experiences this shock. Just relax, recognize that this is just part of becoming a writer, learn your craft, and dig yourself out of the Dunning--Krueger pit.

Yes, you're not as good as you think you are. But recognizing that is the first step in becoming as good as you can be.