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Mini Lesson: Syntax Matters

Why does your editor nitpick where in a sentence you put each word? Because in English, syntax—the order in which words are put together to form phrases & clauses (sentences)—affects meaning.

Syntax wasn't quite as important in Latin, for example, where there was more fluidity in word placement because of the complicated structure of conjugation and declension—word endings helped convey precise meaning. But in English, moving a word around in a sentence can drastically change the meaning, or make a phrase entirely nonsensical.

In other words: syntax matters.

Let's take a look at an example of a lyric taken from the song "Payphone" by Maroon 5:
      "Even the sun sets in paradise." (Emphasis mine.)
Because this lyric says even the sun sets, it means that in paradise, everything sets—including the sun. Now, given the rest of the lyrics and the general idea of the song, we know that the intended meaning was to say "all good things come to an end." In other words, the sun sets everywhere, including in paradise. So this lyric should read:
      "The sun sets even in paradise."
By moving the word even, we can drastically change the meaning of the other five words. And by misplacing it, the lyrics imply almost the exact opposite of their intended meaning.

For another example, let's look at a great sentence that's been making the rounds online:
      She told him that she loved him.
Now, place the word only somewhere in the sentence. Got it? Now move it somewhere else. Did you see how the meaning changed?

In fact, by adding the word only, we can get 7 different meanings from the same words:
  1. Only she told him that she loved him.
  2. She only told him that she loved him.
  3. She told only him that she loved him.
  4. She told him only that she loved him.
  5. She told him that only she loved him.
  6. She told him that she only loved him.
  7. She told him that she loved only him.
Notice how, when reading, you automatically stress different words based on the placement of just that one. Because (say it with me): syntax matters. You don't want to end up with sentence #7 when you mean sentence #2.

So if you're going to be lax with syntax—e.g. to play with the speech mannerisms of your characters—be aware of how moving those words around will affect your meaning. And if you do want to break the rules, make sure you have a good reason to do so.

Writers for Hope Auction for @RAINN01!

The 3rd Annual Writers for Hope Auction is happening today (April 4th, ET)! There is an incredible list of items donated by agents, editors, authors, and book lovers, all going to the highest bidders to raise money for the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network. Last year's auction was a huge success, and this year's is shaping up to be even bigger!

Photo credit: One Way Stock
via Foter.com / CC BY-ND
Among the auction items, you'll find editorial letters (full manuscript critiques) from each of the Touchstone Editors. We're thrilled to be able to support such a fantastic cause!



There are also books, literary gifts, consultations, and much more—over 100 items total!—up for auction. Bidding is open from 12:01AM to 11:59PM Eastern Time (9:01PM Sunday to 8:59PM Monday Pacific Time). Highest bid during that time wins the item, so watch out for those last-minute bidders!

Commandment 10: Know When to Stand Up for Yourself & Your Work

Sometimes editors are wrong. And sometimes agents are wrong. The same can be said for reviewers, contest judges, cover designers, and really just about anyone. So how do you know when to listen to the critiques (or advice) and when to trust your own sense of the work?

The truth is, it's a fine line. Some writers believe that their first draft is brilliant and that any criticism comes from people who are jealous, closed-minded, unintelligent, and/or unable to appreciate their genius. Some trust everything anyone tells them; they try to incorporate all of the feedback, or they give up because someone said the story was boring/awful/poorly written/would never sell/etc. Both approaches can be damaging to your work.

You've likely seen countless posts about the danger of not listening to your editor and not being open to critiques. And it's true; it's impossible to improve if you're not ready to internalize criticism and put in the work. But it's also true that at the end of the day, you know your story best. Consider the experience of this author, who lost what she felt was the core of her story due to editorial pressure. You don't want that to happen to your work—and neither should your editor.

A good editor will be able to lay out a clear explanation for every suggestion s/he provides—not simply insist you do what s/he says—because the goal is to improve your work and your vision. Understanding the reasoning behind the suggestions your editor makes will allow you to address the deeper issues of your story, rather than merely agreeing to the changes. It will allow you to know if the suggested changes are taking your work off course, while giving you the opportunity to fix the core problem(s) without losing your voice. Personally, I love it when my writers fix the problems I point out in their way, regardless of whether they incorporate my specific recommendations.

Understanding the reasoning behind the suggestions someone makes for your work also lets you discuss those deeper reasons and address the other person's concerns, rather than picking a fight or resenting their advice. Similarly, if you want to push back, you need to ensure that you do more than unilaterally reject someone's feedback or suggestions.

One author I've worked with handled a situation like this brilliantly. When she received the publisher's cover design, she didn't say, "I don't like it." She laid out clear reasons for her concerns and coherent suggestions for addressing those concerns, including sample visuals to help steer the designer's work. Now, in reality, she's lucky the publisher listened; some won't, simply because they don't have to. But she stood up for her work in a respectful way, and the result was a beautiful cover that represented her story. Had she stayed quiet or not explained her reasoning as well as she did, that cover wouldn't exist.

At the end of the day, you're the last line of defense for your story. You're responsible for ensuring that the final result is the best it can be, which does mean accepting the criticism necessary to improve it—but it doesn't mean allowing your vision to be steamrolled. It's up to you to walk that fine line of incorporating feedback and staying true to your story. It's also up to you to seek out the people—agents, editors, critique partners, and more—who will be in your story's corner, and not to settle for anything less.


Missed a post? Check out all of Touchstone Editing's 10 Commandments for Writers

Commandment 9: Don't Be Afraid to Put Your Work Out There

Rejection sucks. No one is going to argue that point, and no writer is going to pretend that they like being rejected.

But trite as it may sound, if you never try, you can never succeed. Sure, if you submit a short story to a literary journal, or send a novel off to an agent, you might get rejected. With the amount of other writers doing the same thing, odds are that you will get rejected. But if you don't submit anything, you lose any chance of being accepted at all.

Photo credit: kajojak via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND
I figure submissions are kind of like the heads of a hydra: cut one off, and two more grow back in its place. So personally, when I get one rejection, I try to send the story off to two more places. The other day, I was looking around, trying to figure out where to send one of my stories, and I came across a link to The New Yorker's submissions page. Now, I am 99.9999999% sure that The New Yorker is never going to be interested in anything I write. But! What if? If I submit to them, maybe there's only a 0.00000001% chance that my story will get accepted—but if I don't, that number drops to a flat 0% chance, and those odds are even worse.

Another thing to consider is that, even when your work gets rejected, you could get helpful feedback. True, in many cases you'll get a form rejection. But every so often you'll get specific comments about what didn't work for that publication/agent, why they weren't interested, whether they're excited to see more of your work, etc. That feedback is a tool you can use to improve your writing, better understand what that publication/agent is looking for, and submit stronger work in the future. You can learn from it, and you can grow as a writer as a result.

Plus, though it may hurt to put your heart and soul into your writing only to have someone tell you it isn't good enough, ultimately it's good practice. Because once your work does get published, you're at the mercy of readers everywhere. No matter what you write, no matter how brilliant, some people are going to hate it. You may get scathing reviews—and again, that sucks—but if you've built up a thick skin from all those rejections, you'll have a bit more perspective on how subjective opinions are, and you won't let those opinions stop you.

Don't let rejections make you think your story isn't worthwhile. It might need revisions, or it might be a simple matter of not being a good fit for that particular publication/agent. Plenty of the most influential, bestselling writers were rejected dozens of times before finding success.

Your story deserves telling—but in order for the world to hear it, you need to get it out there.


Commandment 8: Not All Critiques Are Created Equal

It's tempting to listen to your best friend, your supportive family member, or even that writer you met in a critique group who's telling you that your work is pretty much perfect, except for a couple tweaks. It's even more tempting when it's someone who calls themselves an "editor" paying you endless compliments (and charging you money to boot!). Maybe they're even right. But if you're struggling to meet your publishing goals, those unhelpful "critiques" could be to blame.

We all like to be told that we did an amazing job, and more importantly that we're done. No more work needs to be put into this project because it's great exactly as it is! Incredible feeling, right? But you can't trust just anybody who gives you this kind of feedback. 

Photo credit: Nic's events
via Foter.com / CC BY-SA
There's a reason your fellow writer or friend doesn't catch that massive plot hole, point out character development problems, or notice that your subplot stops existing halfway through the book. And there's a reason a good editor catches all of these problems and more.

Just like programming, drawing, gymnastics, etc., editing is a skill. Like most skills, editing well is something that must be learned and then honed. Having an English Literature degree doesn't automatically make you a good editor. Neither does being a bookworm, or even a successful author. These things don't preclude you from being a good editor, of course, but they're insufficient.  Not everyone can catch the problems, point them out, and provide useful suggestions on how to fix them. It takes knowledge and practice, and possibly a natural inclination toward that kind of work (what people like to call "talent"). 

As a writer, you should seek out not those who pay you endless compliments, but those who actually have the experience and knowledge to evaluate your writing and help you improve. They should be able to abstract themselves from their relationship with you and focus entirely on your work. Similarly, you should evaluate the quality of the feedback and disregard how much you like the person.

There is a clear hierarchy to the value provided by a critique. Someone who doesn't read in your genre is pretty low on the list, because they have no frame of reference for what your target readers will expect and enjoy. A beta reader or a fellow writer without much critiquing experience would be somewhere toward the middle, as in many cases, they lack the experience and wherewithal to provide honest criticism and clear suggestions for improvement. An experienced critique partner, especially one who is familiar with your genre and has previously provided useful feedback, is close to the top. But nothing beats a qualified, experienced, and skilled editor.

Remembering this hierarchy can help you sift through contradictory critiques and suggestions, choose the direction in which to take your revisions, and decide how much work still needs to be done. Another way to think about it is: A good beta reader will point out what they like in your book. A good critique partner will point out what isn't working. A good editor will also help you fix it. 

    Have you received contradictory critiques on your work? How did you decide which suggestions to prioritize?

Up next: Commandment 9: Don't Be Afraid to Put Your Work Out There