Get a Book DealĀ® Tip: Adding Depth to Your Manuscript
There is a trend in 
self-publishing toward speed of writing 
and brevity. How fast is too fast? How short 
is too short? What makes either approach appropriate or successful? 
 
Years 
ago, when I was an in-house 
acquisitions editor at a major publishing house, we had a weekly editorial 
meeting where editors from the level of associate editor up to editorial 
director would gather in a conference room around a large table and talk about 
the submissions we'd each had that week: both the projects we were and weren't 
interested in acquiring. 
One of the benefits of those editorial meetings was 
watching trends in subject matter: We could see how similar ideas proposed by 
different writers would gain and lose momentum in the culture. Another was 
learning how our colleagues at the company were making their decisions. I loved 
hearing the questions and standards that each person used to assess 
content.
"This 
feels like a magazine article."
"Why 
do I need this? The promise is not clear to me."
"It's 
a good idea, but something is missing."
Back 
then, we were in the "stone age" of computers. I remember how my boss actually 
refused to give me access to the Internet when I requested it, even though our 
building was wired for it, because she wanted only her own assistant to be able 
to surf the web. (She was a bit of a control freak and clearly shortsighted.) I 
had one of the first laptops in the office, weighing 14 pounds, which I carried 
back and forth from home to office on one shoulder, with a tote bag containing 
about 50 pounds of hard-copy submissions on the other, every morning and night. The 
concept of a digital submission was not on the radar screen. 
When I left that 
company and built a website to serve as my resume, people were shocked that I 
could be so "unprofessional."
Are 
you chuckling along with me? It seems funny and enthralling when you consider 
how much our cultural expectations have changed in the last couple of 
decades--and if you believed publishers would be at the forefront of change, or 
even that they should be, you'd be half right-half wrong. 
A publisher without 
the content created by writers is a non-entity. However, as readers we require 
publishers to exercise quality control over the products we buy from them. From 
day 1, that's been the role of the acquisitions editor. In-house editors have to 
weed the manuscripts in their in-boxes to find the ones that merit strong 
consideration for publication.
Flash 
forward to the digital era, in which writers can bypass corporate publishing 
operations. Do-it-yourself (DIY) is alive and well, and we writers have been 
served all the technology we need to adjudicate our own standards on a golden 
platter. As our own publishers we have to learn to ask ourselves those great 
editorial questions--or do what my clients do, which is hire an editor who knows 
some good questions to ask and answer. Most writers need good 
editors.
Back 
to this article's leading questions: speed and brevity. 
Rapid writing, in 
general, comes from using formulas or templates to establish the framework for 
your content (ideas/words) or from adapting spoken/recorded material to the 
page. This is most appropriate for books where the aim is not to push the 
envelope of the author's knowledge and expertise very far. What the writer knows 
on the day the idea comes is basically what ends up on the printed page or 
screen.  
Fast is too fast if the idea would be improved by doing additional 
research, getting feedback from focus groups, or conducting a series of 
interviews with relevant individuals. Those are three excellent ways to add 
depth and originality to a manuscript that do slow down the writing 
process.
The 
beauty of digital publishing and DIY publishing is that you can set the purchase 
price of your offering low. A relatively narrow idea--one that would be too long 
for a magazine article, brochure, or blog post and is too short to sustain or 
flesh out over the course of many chapters--can be distributed on a device that doesn't change shape no matter what word count you reach. Let's say your 
book is a "short" or a "single" that's intended to be 10,000-15,000 words. 
That's okay because you can do full justice to the idea and then put it on sale 
for $2.99 or $4.99. Your manuscript preparation period is shortened; nonetheless 
you can still go deeply into the concept.
Adding 
depth to a manuscript makes it more valuable. By "depth" I mean layers and 
facets. I've been re-reading Flow by Mihaly 
Csikszentmihaly, a book with tremendous depth. The source for his masterpiece 
was a research study of many years, investigating individuals over the age of 60 
who were recognized by peers in their own fields as high achievers and 
innovators. He wanted to find out what made them so innovative and respected. He 
defines Creativity with a capital "C" as culture-transforming (as opposed to 
brilliance, which is creative on a personal level): before creation, things are 
done/thought one way; after it, another. He discovered that an interchange with 
the culture is necessary for Creativity. Conditions engender it.
Editorially, 
I believe what I look for in the depth of manuscripts is that creative edge of 
innovation. Here are three questions that could lead to more depth in your own 
work.
"Do 
I have/am I expressing fresh insights? What sparked them?"
"Where 
could more interactivity happen?"
"What 
conditions called for this innovation?"
Every 
book is born from the desire to express and connect. Few are masterpieces. 
Rightly so, few books are celebrated as culturally transformative. This does not 
mean that other books fail to deliver on their promises. They do deliver, just 
not at the same level. Understanding the proper scope and depth of our work is 
an assessment we writers must make when we write. 
    


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