Editing: How Much is Too Much?

A good question from a reader named Cassandra:
I'm 16 and have written a few handfuls of novels, novelettes, and short stories. I've been told by other writers that my writing is pretty good, but I always want change something. Either the color of this, or the plot of that. My question is, "How do you know how much editing is too much editing?" I always want to change something, given the fact I'm still learning change is good. But I don't know when’s the right time to quit. Do you have any advice for me?

Years ago, Robert Heinlein published his Five Rules for Writers, and I've done my best to pass them along:

1. Writers write. They don't sit around moaning about how much they would write if only they had the time, or the inspiration, or a better computer.

2. Writers finish what they write. Even if they end up hating every comma and syllable, they grind away to the bitter end. It's good discipline, and sometimes you actually write your way out of the problem.

3. Writers never rewrite, except to editorial order. What a slap in the face to every teacher of English and creative writing! But carpenters don't rebuild a house over and over again; they make sure they have a good plan and build it right the first time. Outlining may seem boring compared to banging out page after page, but it's critical.

For a professional writer, this is especially important: Spend too much time rewriting, and your income drops to pennies per hour. But for apprentices, I admit that rewriting can be helpful. It forces you to pay more attention to what your manuscript is trying to tell you, and you may learn a lot. The hazard is that you can edit your story to death.

4. Writers put their work on the market. They don't just make their friends and relatives read it. Besides, the editorial opinion of friends and relatives is rarely helpful.

5. Writers keep their work on the market until it sells. Rather than collapse in self-pity after the first rejection, they send the manuscript off again, and again. Even a rejection letter can be instructive. I'm eternally grateful to Judy-Lynn Del Rey for her dismissal of my novel Icequake--I was telling, not showing, she said, and she was right. I got a grip, rewrote the novel, and sold it (for far more than Judy-Lynn could have paid me).

Heinlein argues, and I agree, that people who break these rules just don't get published. If I hadn't broken rule #5, I'd probably have published my first novel at age 26 or 27, instead of age 38. Instead, the manuscript stayed on my shelf until it was hopelessly dated. (It's now in my papers at the University of British Columbia, where some unlucky PhD candidate may run across it.)

So to get back to Cassandra's question, when you want to change something in a manuscript, ask yourself: How does this change advance the story? Does it teach us more about the characters, the setting, the plot? Does it affect the outcome? Or is it just a demonstration of my high opinion of myself as a writer?

Hemingway said the test of a good story was how much good stuff you could cut out of it...that is, "fine writing" that was just showing off. We might now have a different definition of "good stuff" from Hemingway's, but the principle is sound.