Sometimes when I'm working on a manuscript, there will be something little bothering me, but I can't quite put my finger on it. I'll highlight sections of text, or add a comment in the margin to the effect of "Huh." or "Really?" or just a simple "?"
On subsequent reads, I'll see those notes and think, "Now what the hell is it that isn't sitting right with me here? What do I want this to be that it isn't?"
And I'll think more about it while I make myself a plate of nachos for lunch, or take a break to pet the cats, or shut down my computer for the evening to watch a movie. (I just got the new Star Trek [warning, that link has sound], and I can confidently say that my week has been vastly enhanced by its viewing.)
Usually, after much deliberation, I'm able to distill whatever that not-pleased feeling is into an actionable editorial suggestion. Like, "You know, this restaurant scene was really bothering me, and I couldn't figure out why until I realized that your main character is smoking while he eats his pie, and there's no way this guy, who is so anal retentive and particular about his life that he makes his wife shower before they're intimate, there's no way he'd smoke while eating. He'd make a big thing of finishing the pie and THEN lighting up." Or, "Look, I understand that you want to show that your tough-as-nails female assassin has a heart somewhere in her ample-bosomed chest, and I think that her buying her goddaughter a Christmas gift is a neat, cute little way to hint at her inner softie, but there's no way that Jasmine Bond would buy her goddaughter a Malibu Barbie, because Jasmine's whole MO is about subverting the hegemony, learning to survive and adapt, and encouraging non-gendered thought, so how about a Swiss army knife and a blank journal, instead?"
But sometimes ... sometimes I can't quite put my finger on what it is that isn't working. And in those times, it is a wonderful thing to be able to call up the author's agent and say, "Ok, Chapter 7, what do you make of it?"
I know, I know, you're probably thinking, "Too many cooks! My manuscript is not a large kitchen!" but hear me out: Your agent and your editor are not trying to change your intent, or monkey with your book to make it more theirs than yours. We're trying to help you distill your meaning and your essence, we're trying to make sure everything is consistent in your characters' world, we're here to help. And sometimes, a conversation about a vague feeling that something isn't working is exactly what the doctor ordered.
I can't always tell what it is that's bugging me -- but in collaboration with someone else who is familiar with the world of the book, but is not that world's creator, I'm able to suss out my feelings, crystalize my gripes, and determine whether or not they're worth including in my editorial notes.
A good agent not only provides authorial support, but also editorial support when needed. I'm fortunate to work with lots of good agents, and I'm glad every time that my authors have such smart, funny, and insightful people advocating for them and their work.
