by Sarah Varland, @SarahVarland

Since moving from the South back to Alaska, though Alaska has always felt more like “home” to me, there are a few things I miss about the South. One is chocolate layer cake. If you’re from around there, you know what I mean. If you’re not, please know this is not a three-layer chocolate cake I’m missing. Not four layers. Not five. This is a serious ten to twelve layer cake, whose first ingredient is probably either sugar or butter, the pieces of which I’ve eaten have probably cut my lifespan down, but it’s worth every bit of it.

This cake is amazing. Truly. And it’s not a taller version of regular chocolate layer cake. The substance, the texture, all of it is different even though the ingredients are largely the same.

And having just gotten through a round of edits for an upcoming book I have, I realized this morning how much edits are like cake. I turned in to my editor a chocolate layer cake I could be proud of. Four layers, at least, with fluffy cake and generic buttercream frosting. I expected during the editing process that we’d add a couple of layers, maybe. Make it an even better, even taller cake.

That, it turns out, was not the case for this book. I had the ingredients right. Flour, sugar, butter, chocolate…. I had the characters, their stories, the suspense was there, the plot was solid. I thought maybe a tweak here and a tweak there would fix the issues my editor pointed out, but after thinking about it long and hard (you have no idea how long and how hard), I realized much of what she was asking for wasn’t something I could just add on here and there, there were issues I needed to delve back in and fix. I needed to make it a different kind of chocolate cake entirely, with the same ingredients I already had present in the story.

Sometimes your edits, whether they’re from an editor at a publishing house you’re contracted with, someone you pay if you’re an indie writer, or from a critique partner, will be adding layers to a great cake. Sometimes they’ll be a little more involved. Your editor will tell you that you have all the pieces, but it’s not just about adding things, it’s about taking the ingredients you have and reshaping parts of the story entirely. Sometimes your editor may tell you that you made a pretty good chocolate cake, but they needed pie and you’re going to have to do a lot more work than you bargained for.

Either way, edits are not the enemy. I’ve always known that but had to remind myself again this week. Everyone involved in making your book baby come alive wants it to be the best it can be. This is just your friendly reminder to know when to pause, truly think about why someone would try to help you reshape your story, and to know that they may not be destroying something, they may, in fact, just be helping you make a different kind of cake. Take the suggestions you can get behind and explain why you can’t change the issues you feel strongly about. But know that everyone on your team loves the story.

And maybe treat yourself to some cake when you’re finished.

Sarah Varland lives near the mountains in Alaska with her husband John, their two boys, and their dogs. Her passion for books comes from her mom, her love for suspense comes from her dad who has spent a career in law enforcement. Her love for romance comes from the relationship she has with her husband and from watching too many chick flicks. When she’s not writing, she’s often found reading, baking, kayaking or hiking.