Substantive Editing of a Multiauthor Book
Posted by Brian Hotchkiss on Mon, Oct 19, 2009
I recently completed work on a 14-chapter nonfiction book to which some 23 authors contributed (some essays were coauthored). While this was by no means my first—or most complicated—bout with a multiauthor MS, it impressed me as something of a paradigm for this type of editorial service. Why, I kept wondering, does a book written by several different writers require so much more time and care than a single-author work?
The obvious answer is consistency, of course. That one word alone explains perhaps as much as two thirds of the difficulty. On the macro scale, the editor must absorb and comprehend everything each author posits well enough to recognize when one contributor contradicts another. Say, for instance, a table included in chapter 2 points to the conclusion that, in measuring the worth of forest preservation, a particular dollar value may be assigned to restriction of carbon emissions. Then, in chapter 10, a different writer explains how one capably quantify the benefits of carbon credits monetarily. In other words, he comes to a conclusion at odds with his colleague's. First you must make certain not to fall prey to an apples/oranges argument; then, you are called on to find a way to describe the problem to both writers so they can arrive at a mutually acceptable resolution. This is not to suggest that a single-author book is exempt from having its very own conundrums, just that editorial recognition of them is usually much simpler.
On a micro level, not only is it crucial that every author spell toward without the s (or with it, if you prefer), each one must also refer accurately and identically to people, places, and things. For example, one essay in the recently completed book referred to British Columbia's "Great Bear Rainforest." A couple of chapters later, however, another author discussed the "Great Bear's Rain Forest"; and yet a third included a couple mentions of the "Great Bear rain forest." A Google search immediately yielded the Province of British Columbia's website, which cites this area as the Great Bear Rainforest. Over the course of the entire book, however, I had to adjust this name about seven times. Now factor in the twist that half of the essays in this book concern South American subjects with English-preferred acronyms for Spanish corporate names, and you begin to see how time consuming such verification becomes. You also will understand how I ended up with an 18-page style sheet, 90 percent of which is comprised of words and terms that required verification. When you factor in this sort of research, it will be apparent how important fact-checking—on the Internet, in the library—is when providing substantive editorial services.
Then there's the remaining one-third, which primarily consists of coping with what can be seen as almost the opposite of consistency—the delicate balancing of a number of authorial tones. In this regard, editing a single-author book is usually fairly straightforward: I become aware of, then comfortable with, the writer's voice and approach, then assure that they remain intact throughout the work, regardless of the changes I may suggest. With multiple authors, however, each has her or his distinctive voice, and I must always weigh to what extent one essay may (or should) reflect and/or differ from the others. The reader must not be put off by abrupt changes in voice from chapter to chapter, but each writer must be permitted to maintain a distinctive character. (By the way, this definitely is not the case for a fiction collection, where tonal differences are likely to be part of the point of the publication.) Now I am about to delve into another nonfiction book. This one has been written by two—and, in a couple of chapters, three—authors, all working together: writing by committee.
I wish I could recall my first multiauthor book from so many years ago. What must I have done?