Tag: writing

Submissions and so forth

Amanda addresses the business of submissions at Mad Genius Club:

Yesterday, as I was looking at FB, I came across a post from someone I respect a great deal. He also has one of the most unverifiable jobs there is in publishing. No, not reading the slush pile, although that is part of his job. He has taken it upon himself to do what so many publishers don’t do. He responds to those who send something in, letting them know whether or not their work has met the minimum threshold to be passed up the line for further consideration. Believe me, that is definitely more than a number of publishers do. Too many simply never get back to you unless they are interested.

What caught my eye with his post was how unprofessional someone had been in response to his email letting them know their story had not been passed up the line. Now, I know how it stings when you get a rejection. It’s like someone telling you your baby is ugly. But it happens and we have to accept it with grace and move on. Yes, we can kick and scream and curse in public but you do not send a note back telling the editor how wrong they were. Nor do you tell them that the title has been published during the time the editor was considering it, especially if the editor has gotten back to you in less than half the time they say it normally takes.

And that is where this particular author screwed up.

Having been on both ends of the process, perhaps some of you might be interested in an editor’s perspective.

  1. Most of the stuff that is submitted isn’t anywhere near ready. Seriously, we’re talking “WTF were you thinking” territory. Don’t submit just to submit, practice, then file it away if it’s not genuinely on par with what the publisher publishes and move on to the next work.
  2. You have VERY little time to impress the slush reader, who is wading through large quantities of writing that ranges from barely literate to mediocre. Make it count.
  3. Keep the cover letter short and to the point. No one is going to be impressed by how BADLY you want to be published or HOW MUCH you want to work with the publishing house. What you want has nothing to do with how good your book is.
  4. Pay a modicum of attention to whom you are submitting. If you submit a gay teen werewolf romance to Castalia, we’ll reject it right away. If you’re an SJW, don’t bother.
  5. Spellcheck, particularly your cover letter, bio, and first chapter. The occasional typo is forgivable, but if you simply can’t spell, most slush readers will quite reasonably assume you can’t write.
  6. Pay attention to who else the publisher publishes. Be familiar with some of their authors and read a few of their books to see how your work compares to them. At Castalia, our goal is for me to be the worst writer we publish. If your stuff isn’t objectively as good as my books, or Peter Grant’s, or Rod Walker’s, (and read the Amazon reviews to see how THOSE books are regarded) then you simply have no chance of being published by Castalia. Because John Wright and Owen Stanley and Nick Cole are even better.

All that being said, sometimes a submission does make it through the process. Last night I was discussing some editorial changes I wanted to see with the author of an unsolicited submission who hit several of our interest triggers with a solid, well-written murder mystery and political thriller set in feudal Japan that reads very much like military SF. If he can nail those changes, and I have no reason to think that he can’t, Castalia will be delighted to publish it.

Talking SJWs with Tom Woods

What exactly is the ideology of the “Social Justice Warrior”? What do you do when you’re targeted by one, whether at work or in general? Vox Day — popular blogger, author, SJW slayer, and polymath — joins me for background and strategy.

Tom Woods was kind enough to have me as a guest on Episode 703 of his podcast, Social Justice Warriors: Who They Are and How to Deal With Them. Tom is a sharp guy and I always enjoy speaking with him.

Of course, we were discussing the book that has been a political philosophy bestseller for nearly a year now, SJWs Always Lie: Taking Down the Thought Police. As its first year of publication comes to a close, it is still a top 2 book in the category, trailing only Plato’s Republic.

Which reminds me. How many people here would be interested in reading annotated editions of classics like the Republic or Aristotle’s Rhetoric, which would consist of the text with my commentary on the text woven into it. We could even do it with other classic works and commentators; I would love to have a copy of Clausewitz’s On War annotated by Martin van Creveld. I’m not promising anything, as I have three – no, four – books I’m already writing, but it’s an idea that might be worth exploring.

A Throne of Bones: a review

Katrina reviews ATOB on Amazon:

I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this book. I picked it up because I’d seen the author’s critiques of the current state of SF/F and was curious to see if he could deliver an improvement on the mediocre works that just about define the genre today. I was also intrigued by the military emphasis- or more specifically the emphasis on an accurate portrayal of warfare. On both accounts, I came away impressed.

Yes, this is like A Game of Thrones. As I understand it, that’s intentional.It follows a similar format with each chapter named for the character whose perspective is shown, and the general idea is similar, with different warring kingdoms and factions and betrayals going on at the micro level and some vast cyclical magic operating at a macro level.

Where A Throne of Bones improves upon AGoT is mainly at that macro level. As much as it’s transparent in Martin’s books that he has no idea where the overall story is going, it’s quite clear that Day actually has a plan for Arts of Dark and Light. I get the feeling it’s a good plan, too, and, without giving too much away, I suspect it’s a little more Wheel of Time than Game of Thrones.

Day also roundly defeats Martin in the military arena. I wasn’t sure if this aspect of the book would interest me, since I’m more a fan of naval history, but I found AToB perfectly balanced realism and detail with excitement and pacing. I got the sense that Day could go on all, well, day, about tactics and logistics and this horse and that infantry, yet he didn’t, which gave the story a sense of depth without growing tedious. I don’t know whether we have the author or the editor to thank for that, but well done, Castalia House, either way.

(By the way, the human side of warfare is incredibly well illustrated, particularly in the chapter featuring “Eyepopper.” If I didn’t actually cry, it was only because I was too busy double-checking the by-line to make sure it didn’t say “Tolstoy.”)

I should also offer some praise to the characters whose perspectives we see in the book. Unlike in Martin’s books, there is no one I want to choke to death, no name that makes me dread the coming chapter (*cough* Sansa *cough*). Martin’s greatest strength is his ability to show both sides of every conflict in a sympathetic light. Day exhibits this ability as well, with legitimate heroes representing differing opinions on religion, morality, national identity, and so on. He writes persuasively and genuinely from all of these perspectives, which is enormously refreshing, especially as he avoids appearing to simply hate humanity in the process.

Which brings me to the worst thing about this book: the sequel isn’t out yet!

It’s in the works, although obviously slower than I’d like. It will be out this year, one way or another, but “this year” is looking more like “November” than “September” now. I’m beginning to understand why editors are so seldom very prolific writers, as once you spend a few hours editing someone else’s book, you’re seldom in much of a mood to work on your own.

Also, A Sea of Skulls is a more difficult book to write than A Throne of Bones was. Not for the same reasons that have plagued Mr. Martin, but because, as the reviewer noted, I try to write from the perspective of the different characters. It turns out that the level of difficulty rises considerably when one is writing not only from the various perspectives of human, elf, dwarf, and orc, but from those perspectives set within their native cultures. Alas for those who desired a greater sense of the numinous, it appears my vulgar lyrical gifts much better suit the latter two cultures than the elevated elven culture that Tolkien so memorably portrayed.

Anyhow, if you haven’t read A Throne of Bones yet, you should probably get started on it now if you’re going to get through it in time for the sequel, since it is an 850-page monster.

What’s interesting about this review is that it apparently isn’t by a longtime fan or someone familiar with my previous or current works, and yet they nevertheless reach the conclusion that at least the first volume compares favorably with the bestselling works by Mr. Martin. In contrast, those who spuriously claim that I cannot write invariably do so on the basis of not having done more than skimmed a short story or two, and moreover, are less than entirely credible on the basis of their pre-existing enmity for me.

I will never be a great novelist because I simply don’t have the gift. I know what a great writer is, and I simply cannot do what they do. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t write some of the best epic fantasy out there, because what is required for epic fantasy leans more towards stamina, clear thinking, and a coherent vision than pure literary talent. And that is one reason that I have chosen to focus on it, at least in terms of my fiction, rather than some of the other sub-genres in which I have dabbled.

Why she doesn’t read women writers

For a different reason than I don’t, as it happens:

So, what is this all about?

It is about the fact I’m tired of getting fan letters saying “I
finally read your books, having hesitated long and hard to start.
 Forgive me, but the fact that you’re female made me doubtful.”

Ah, yeah, that.  And then I became conscious of an hesitation to pick up female-written books, myself.

I, who am a female writing books, and who have been formed as a
reader by a veritable battalion of writing females, suddenly subjecting
to greater scrutiny books by females, and asking friends “is she okay?”
before starting a new female author.

Why?  Oh, not because of what is between the author’s legs.  No, that
never interested me, before or since.  What makes me hesitate is the
mush that younger females have had their heads filled with, often from
primary education.

One of the first warnings of this was when a young college student
joined our writers’ group.  (She is now a bestselling author.)  Her
education had been exquisite and expensive, and yet… And yet she believed things like that there had been great women
fighters in the middle ages, and the men had suppressed all memory of
them.  Or that my best friend and I didn’t have college degrees (both of
us had Masters) because we were stay at home moms.

I don’t judge her too harshly on these beliefs.  It’s really hard to
examine the things that adults told us when we were very young.  Note
how until recently I believed my cousin Dulce had died because I refused
to share my bread and butter with her.  (I suspect being rebuked, then
hearing she’d died got conflated in my mind.)  And that wasn’t even an
intentional guilt trip.

But I find myself reading about women as they never were, women
without agency oppressed by a far  more coordinated patriarchy than any
male I know could manage, let alone a group of males.  I find myself
reading about men as they never were, too, men who are all plotting and
evil and powerful or else cringing ball-less cowards.  And then there is
the Marxism that afflicts the younger, “well educated” ones.  And the
preaching.  Oh, my LORD, I never took well to preaching, even in
religious books.

So, I hesitate before picking up new women writers.  Though I do pick
them up.  I even tolerate a fair amount of feminism and left wing
ideology if it’s so well wrapped in the story it doesn’t pop me out of
it.  Most of the women and some of the men above are/were definitely on
the left, but they can tell a story, and that’s all I care about.

Looking at my reading lists for the past few years, it is readily apparent that although women are some of my favorite authors – Tanith Lee, Ellis Peters, Agatha Christie, Susan Cooper, Murasaki Shikibu – I very seldom read women who write today. If it weren’t for the Hugo Awards, I wouldn’t have read any at all this year.

Why? Because, for the most part, they bore me. Women write best when they write about what truly interests them, which is interpersonal relationships. But shoe-horning a woman’s novel into a science fiction, or fantasy, or worse, military science fiction skin is not only uninteresting, it’s quite often downright cringe-worthy.

The problem, as I see it, is that most female writers are too solipsistic to be interested in ideas beyond pushing the current Narrative. It’s too bad, because they are vastly superior in their understanding of socio-sexual relations than are their gamma male counterparts in the SF/F genre. At the very least, women writers understand that men pursue women and that women are attracted to men for reasons that have nothing to do with how assiduously he respects her and avoids expressing any undue interest in her. (I can reliably ID a male writer’s socio-sexual status by how he describes male-female relations, and most male writers in SF/F are gammas.)

But at the end of the day, I don’t give a damn about whether the author’s Mary Sue protagonist goes for Alpha Male 1 or Alpha Male 2, which is the central question around which most female-written fiction revolves. This may explain why, when I look at the female authors I like reading, I notice that they almost uniformly utilize male protagonists.

Ellis Peters – Brother Cadfael. Agatha Christie – Hercule Poirot and the famously celibate Miss Marple. Susan Cooper – Will Stanton. Tanith Lee utilizes a broad range of protagonists, but most of them are male. Even Lady Murasaki’s classic novel revolved around Hikaru Genji, the shining prince.

Now, there are no doubt exceptions to be found, but as a general rule, name a woman author with a female protagonist and you can be fairly certain that regardless of what else might be going on in the book,  a significant percentage of the text will be devoted to answering one of two questions: a) will she or won’t she? and b) Alpha Male 1 or Alpha Male 2?

If that interests you, fine. There is nothing wrong with that. But I, for one, am not very likely to read it. A great book is a great book, and it doesn’t matter who writes it, but women writers should keep in mind that many readers have been burned many times by other women writers who have attempted to sell them a romance in non-romance wrapping.

Play the reader dishonestly that way and he – or she –  will never give you another chance.

“When Jethro Exposed the Simulation”

Now THAT was unexpected. Roosh demonstrates a hitherto unsuspected talent for writing science fiction:

“Remember when you spawned Hitler?” Fodos asked.

“Remember?” Ghartek replied. “That was the highlight of my career! But it almost crashed the simulation.”

“What I loved about it is how you weaved Biblical themes into Hitler’s actions. It really scared the Jews.”

“Wait until we give Israel to Iran in the next update. The Persian empire must rise again!” Fodos laughed.

“Hey watch this,” Ghartek said, “I’m going to mess with this guy by vanishing his orange toothbrush.” Ghartek made a couple clicks on his display and then somewhere in Siberia, a man couldn’t find his toothbrush, no matter where he looked.

“He’s checking the door to see if someone came in to steal it.” Ghartek smirked, pleased at his work.

Both Fodos and Ghartek were senior programmers on Bethlabus, a planet where a race of hyper-intelligent species called Homo futurans lived. They shared human genetic ancestry with those living in a simulation that they controlled, though technically the connection was only virtual. Real Homo sapiens died out long ago, following in the footsteps of their Homo erectus and Homo neanderthalensis ancestors. Futurans created the simulation to better understand their roots and their future, with a goal to prevent their own extinction. The simulation itself was housed on a quantum computer the size of a city block.

While there were dozens of simulations in operation, Simulation Earth was the most interesting. Not only was it the longest, spanning over 5 billion years, but it seemed to mirror what Futurans knew about their own past of spurts and stops in evolution that seemed to be a microcosm of the rise and fall of human empires. Data from the simulation was continually analyzed with reports presented yearly to the public through academic papers and conferences. “If we understand our past, we will safeguard our future,” the motto went.

The most important fact they learned from the simulations is the universal difficulty of intelligent organisms to properly foresee and plan again long-term disasters.  Once a species gets too technologically advanced, their over-confidence in problem solving and fixing the environment actually accelerates their demise instead of retarding it.

Read the whole thing there. It’s better, and more genuinely science fiction, than anything that won a Nebula Award last week.

There Will Be Volume XI

Jerry Pournelle has an important announcement.

There Will be War Volume XI

 Now open for submissions at twbw@castaliahouse.com. Publication will be in late November or early December of this year. Reprint anthology, but original works are eligible; three original fiction stories in Volume X were nominated for Hugos; winners will be announced at MidAmericon II in August. Although unpublished works will be considered, there is no additional payment beyond payment for reprint rights, and first publication rights remain with the author (until, of course, they expire at publication of this volume).

Payment is $200 on acceptance. This is an advance against royalties. Royalties are a pro rata share of 50% of all royalties due from the publisher (the other 50% is to the editor). We buy non-exclusive anthology rights.  Publisher is Castalia House, which will make advances and royalty payments directly to the contributors. Again, payment is the same for previously published and previously unpublished works. Story selection is by me (the editor).  Editor’s contribution will include a volume introduction and introductions to each contribution, and may include more as I judge necessary.

Submissions can be fiction or non-fiction of under 20,000 words relevant to the future of warfare.  Previous volumes have included stories of ground combat, interplanetary and interstellar naval engagements, “space opera”, terrorism, a major essay in asymmetric warfare by a professor of military history, and articles from military journals. Most works to be included have been previously published. Submissions accepted until October 2016, or until announcement that the volume is filled.

Two classic stories by well-known award-winning authors have already been accepted, others are expected. I emphasize that payment of an advance against royalties is on acceptance.

Don’t quit your day job

Consider how many books are sold by a traditionally published multi-Hugo winning author:

It’s the question every writer dreads: “How many books have you sold?”

It’s a tricky question because for 99% of the year, those with traditionally published books honestly have very little idea. But two times a year – in the spring and in the fall – we receive royalty statements from publishers, which give a sometimes cryptic breakdown of what has sold where. So for those keeping track here with my “Honest Publishing Numbers” posts, here’s an update.

THE MIRROR EMPIRE

Sold about 23,000 copies as of December 31st, 2015 (representing about 16 months of sales)

EMPIRE ASCENDANT

About 7,000 copies as of December 31st, 2015 (note that this book came out in October last year, so that’s only two months of sales. Not bad)

That’s not bad, but less than one would tend to imagine. However, to put it in perspective, “tiny” independent publisher Castalia House reliably sells between 3,000 and 10,000 copies per book. Self-published Mike Cernovich has reported over 15,000 23,000 copies of Gorilla Mindset sold since June 2015. And while I’m not at liberty to talk about their book sales, mostly self-published and sometime Castalia authors Jonathan Moeller and Christopher Nuttall both sell… considerably more than that.

All without any of those books appearing in a single traditional bookstore. And despite being nobodies in the eyes of every mainstream publisher, they’re all doing rather better than most traditionally published authors.

Almost a third of published authors make less than $500 a year from their writing, according to a new survey, with around a half of writers dissatisfied with their writing income.

In the wake of a year that has seen a bitter war of words rage between traditionally published and self-published authors, the survey shows that the old way of doing things continues to reap the most financial rewards for writers, with traditionally published authors making a median annual income of $3,000–$4,999, and independent writers a median of $500–$999. So-called hybrid authors, however – those who publish in both ways – did best, earning $7,500–$9,999 a year.

This is why I always tell people who say they want to write that they should never pursue it as a career. It is a pastime; if you enjoy it, then by all means, write! But don’t focus on the possibility of making money, and by no means plan on it. Do it because you love it. Let your enjoyment of your work shine though it.

It can be done. Larry Correia shows that hard work can sell books. John Scalzi shows that relentless self-marketing and politicking can sell books. Mike Cernovich shows that owning social media can sell books. But the odds are against the average individual, and against the better-than-average individual as well.

UPDATE: Jerry Pournelle adds his thoughts on the matter:

Some of us do a little better than that.  See my essay on how to get my job.

Self publishing works for some who work very hard, and do a lot to let their intended readership know their works exist. Being displayed for sale in a bookstore used to work, and for some  still does, but being known for writing good stories of a particular kind has always been the key to making a living at writing.

My essay was written  before the self-publishing revolution, when independent publishers were known as the vanity press, and sold mostly to the author’s friends and relatives; today it’s possible to sell eBooks to a large niche readership, who, I suppose, can be thought a big expansion of friends and relatives; big enough, sometimes, to support someone who tells them stories they will pay to read.

Of course, as Mr Heinlein taught us, we write for discretionary income: as Robert put it. Joe’s beer money, and Joe likes his beer.

The New Fat Fantasy

Having successfully championed minorities, women, homosexuals, and rainbow-haired, sexually-confused, surgically-mutilated freaks in science fiction, SF-SJWs have defined their next urgent anti-discrimination priority: fat chicks.

You’ve read a couple books where fat girls get to be loved in the real world, and that’s wonderful, but fat girls don’t get whisked away into alternate worlds and told they’re a long lost princess. Fat girls don’t get to see the magical underside of New York City. Fat girls don’t save planets.

It’s an interesting dichotomy. Many, if not most, fantasy writers are fat women, but fat women are apparently discriminating against fat women in their books, either because they are a) self-hating or b) subject to a false consciousness instilled by Society and The Patriarchy.

I’m going to guess that our intrepid champions of the overfed and underprivileged are going to go with option (b). But if the literary world shortchanges the big-bottomed woman, at least they can be assured that the rock world appreciates them. Talk about a LOT of bass!

Yeah, it’s not Latin at all

It’s always amusing how the midwits at File 770 are locked into the position that everything I do must, by definition, be stupid, evil, and wrong. A couple of them are still striking poses about the title of Opera Vita Aeterna:

No, that’s not how medieval Latin worked. It still had grammar!

That title is crap Latin whether it is supposed to be Classical or Medieval Latin.

You can’t just write out strings of straight dictionary words of Latin and hope they mean what you want them to.

The change from Classical Latin to Medieval Latin was a little more like taking this:

    To be, or not to be–that is the question:

And making this:

    It’s a question of being or not being.

That Beale title is more the equivalent of

    Is! Is! Negate! Is! Yonder! Query!

Actually, it’s not Latin at all. I don’t speak Latin. I speak Italian. And it’s not actually proper Italian either, which would be Un’opera della vita eterna, but in the hallowed tradition of my fallen intellectual hero, Umberto Eco, I abbreviated it, then added an extra A to give it a Latinate flavor. I not only didn’t “just write out strings of straight dictionary words”, I didn’t use a dictionary at all.

Now, if the File 770ers were genuinely familiar with my writing, or were doing anything more than posturing and virtue-signaling, they would have criticized my bad Latin in Summa Elvetica, where I did actually write in what is actually supposed to be Latin.

Praeterea, homo in Die Sexto creatus sunt. In ordine naturae qui in narratione Creationis descriptus, perfectius praestat. Ergo homo est perfectior quam aelvi. Tum, perfectissima res animae estseparatio ab corpore, quod in illa re similior Dei angelorumque, et purior, quod separatur ab ulla aliena substantia. Quandoquidem non aeque perfecti atque homines, aelvi ulterius quam homines ab perfectissima re animae. Ergo aelvi habent animae naturaliter sibi unita.

I would, of course, welcome any grammatical corrections they might suggest and will be happy to add them to the novel should they be able to provide any.

You can always tell a midwit, because he’s always in a hurry to show everyone how smart he isn’t.

On editing

The SF-SJWs at File 770 are appalled at the fact that Tor Books and Castalia House author John C. Wright is willing to go on the record and state that,
in his opinion, I am a better editor than the late, Hugo Award-winning editor
David Hartwell:

These are the recommendations of my editor,
Theodore Beale, aka Vox Day, the most hated man in Science Fiction, but
certainly the best editor I have had the pleasure to work with.
– John C. Wright

Charming. Take this and go home, David Hartwell, as we would say in Italy.
– Anna Feruglio Dal Dan on February 17, 2016 at 3:51 am

JCW is a writer convinced that his every work is a glittering jewel of
exquisite literary craftsmanship. VD is an editor who doesn’t meddle
with his writers’ texts. (For an example of this, see “Shakedown Cruise”
in Riding the Red Horse, where Campbell nominee Rolf Nelson makes
*ahem* many interesting and innovative aesthetic choices when it comes
to things like verb tenses and punctuation, and VD lets them all stand.)

That
sort of writer is bound to get on well with that sort of editor. Bit
rough on the readers, of course, but, pffft, what do they know?
– Steve Wright on February 17, 2016

I suspect that what he was good at was being edited by David Hartwell.
– Peter J on February 17, 2016

JCW,
while styling himself as a coldly-rational intellectual, reveals that
he’s actually a fool whose opinions are driven entirely by ignorance,
arrogance, and emotion. Every thing he’s written over the last year has
made it very apparent just how much his career is owed to the efforts of
the editors at Tor who transformed his usual drivel into something
coherent.
– Aaron on February 17, 2016

It is hard to decide whether I am more flattered by the estimable Mr. Wright’s high regard or amused by the level of ignorance demonstrated by the usual suspects. The former, I am finally forced to conclude, as I have come to expect the latter from the low-IQ denizens of an otherwise very good site.

You see, I have perspective that they do not. Unlike them, I have seen Mr. Wright’s unedited prose. I know exactly what it looks like. And as it happens, it looks very much like the prose that appears in Mr. Wright’s novels that are published by Tor Books. John is an excellent writer; he is one of the greatest SF/F writers alive. But he writes very, very quickly and he is prone to what one might describe as an exuberant approach to writing. Last year, Castalia House offered him a contract for a 60k-word book. I am now reading the manuscript, which clocks in at nearly 200k words.

Even those authors who don’t like Mr. Wright or his style might well contemplate suicide if they truly understood how speedily and effortlessly the man writes… and writes well. When I say he is a great writer, I do not do so lightly, nor do I do so because I am fortunate enough to publish some of his works. I say it out of pure envy and awe.

Now, I am not privy to the details of the editing process at Tor Books. I have not discussed it with Mr. Wright or anyone else. But it would not have surprised me in the slightest to learn that it frequently consists of sending the manuscript directly to the proofreaders, correcting any infelicities of grammar and typos, then publishing the book without any real editorial activity at all. And I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that David Hartwell had not even read all of the books that he “edited” either.

As Castalia House authors know, I either edit a book or I decline to edit it. If I edit it, I decide whether I will apply a scalpel or a machete to the text. In the case of certain authors, I ask them if they would prefer a scalpel or a machete, and honor their preference even if I think it is mistaken. In one recent case, I removed one-third of the manuscript’s word count. In another case, I had the author cut out more than 20,000 words. I suspect that I have excised more words from a single novella by John C. Wright than Mr. Hartwell did from Mr. Wright’s entire oeuvre. So, not only do I “meddle in my writers’ texts”, I do so much more heavily than the average editor does.

The mistake that these File 770 commenters are making is thinking that one can reasonably judge the quality of an editor’s work by the final product. You cannot. You can only judge it by comparing the submitted draft of the manuscript to the final product. For example, my
book The World in Shadow is a MUCH better book than The War in
Heaven. It is better in every way. But the editor at Pocket Books did a brilliant job on The War
in Heaven, because the first draft was a disaster and she made me
rewrite the entire book twice, with lots of hands-on advice and examples.

But she did nothing on The World in Shadow, she did literally nothing. Her entire
editing process consisted of telling me that the book was good to go as submitted. The published book is nearly word-for-word identical to my submitted manuscript, so much so that we were later able to create the ebook from the unedited submission.

It is true, for example, that Rolf Nelson takes a uniquely creative approach to verb tenses and punctuation, but it is very, very far from the truth to claim that I let them all stand. Why do we publish him, then? Because Rolf is an excellent storyteller, and if you are more interested in grammar than story and characterization, then you are not part of Castalia House’s target market. Literary style is only one of the four major aspects of writing; one of the reasons that Castalia House exists is because the mainstream publishing houses have become overly obsessed with style and ideology at the expense of story, characters, and ideas.

And I will go so far as to say this: I am a much better editor than whoever is supposed to be editing George RR Martin’s books. Had I been the editor, A Dance with Dragons would have been 700 pages shorter and it would have been considerably more enjoyable.

UPDATE: It appears my surmise about the extent to which Mr. Wright’s books were edited at Tor Books was correct, as per L. Jagi Lamplighter Wright

Just in case anyone wondered: John has tremendous respect for Mr. Hartwell, whom he admired, appreciated working with, and liked as a person. But Mr. Hartwell almost never made any changes to John’s manuscripts.