Patricia Storms once said that all writers are magicians.

When I read her quote on the Paperback Writer blog awhile back, I had to stop a moment and think about this. And, by God, I think she may be right.

When I was about ten years old, my father took me to a magic show in Hollywood called IT’S MAGIC. There were about twenty magicians on the bill, one after another showing us their biggest and best tricks, sawing women in half, floating balls in the air and, yes, pulling rabbits out of the hat.

I loved the show and, afterwards, my father immediately took me to Bert Wheeler’s Magic Shop, where I picked up a trick called multiplying billiard balls. Only the billiard ball size were too large for my small hands, so I got the pint-sized version.

I practiced that trick for months. And, if I do say so myself, I got pretty darn good at it. I still have a picture of me at twelve years old, decked out in the homemade tux my mother made for me, showing off my sleight of hand dexterity with those Bert Wheeler multiplying balls.

Thing is, the mechanics of the trick weren’t very tough. I’m not going to spoil it for you by telling you how it was done, but let’s say that just about anyone could do the trick with a few minutes practice.

But I have a feeling it wouldn’t look much like magic. It would probably look like some guy ham-handedly struggling to multiply those billiard balls, and the gimmick behind the trick would be obvious to any but the dimmest of spectators.

Real magicians, you see, practice day in and out to make their sleight of hand smooth and undetectable. So that it looks like REAL magic. So that people watch and say, “Wow! Do that again!”

And that’s what writers try to do as well. We work very hard behind the scenes, manipulating words and phrases and characters and plot lines and trying our best to make it all look seamless and — hopefully — get our readers (and our editors and publishers) to say, “Wow! Do that again!”

A lot of people think that all they need to know is how the trick is done and they, too, can be a magician. They’re unwilling to put in the real practice necessary, and the moment they learn the trick, they’re ready to perform. To get in front of an audience of their friends and family and show off.

First time writers often think that the moment they’ve put that first story down on paper, they’re ready to be published — “How do I get an agent?” is the most commonly asked question of professional writers next to “Where do you get your ideas?”

But are you ready for that agent any more than that first time magician is ready to perform?

Writing, like magic, takes years of practice. And a willingness to fail again and again until we get it right. Until what we do seems not like simple trickery, but REAL magic to those who read our work. When the words draw them in and transport them to another time and place, a time and place filled with characters who are alive and breathing and the suspension of disbelief is so deep that we, as writers, can get away with almost anything. Can make them believe that a woman can be cut in half, that rabbits can materialize from nowhere, that those billiard balls can multiply between our fingers…

The great writers, like the great magicians, elevate craft to an art. And as we read their work, we can’t help but think, “How did he do that?”

But knowing the “how” is only a small part of the trick. It’s knowing what to DO with that “how” that really counts.

Making them believe, like Patricia Storms, that what we do is magic.

A lot of you who have been working toward getting a book published have no idea what happens once you sign a contract with a publishing house.  Well, I’m here to tell you:

Nine times out of ten, that contract will be the result of the sale of a completed book.  You’ve written a 100,000 word manuscript, had an agent shop it around, and an editor at one of the publishing houses has taken a liking to it, made an offer, and you’ve accepted.

Eeehaaaa! Your dreams have come true.

Believe me, I still remember the exhilaration of that phone call from my agent, telling me I could now call myself a published author.  I literally started dancing.  Like a freakin’ fool.

For those of you still working on it, that contract is the pot at the end of the rainbow.  But the contract is only the beginning.  Even before the thing has been signed, you’ll get a call of congratulations from your editor and he/she will tell you that he/she is planning to reread the book with an eye toward editing.

This is when your heart sinks a little.  Isn’t the book perfect the way it is?

Not usually, no.  If you’re like me, you like to write very clean manuscripts.  A clean manuscript is one that’s very tightly plotted, concisely written and polished to a lovely shine.

But even those manuscripts get edited.   How extensively it’s edited depends on the manuscript’s needs and your editor — whose only desire is to help you put out a book that goes straight to the bestseller list.  This rarely happens, of course, but that’s a different matter.

Once your editor has re-read the manuscript, you may get a phone call, but you’ll more likely get an editorial letter.  This is where the editor goes through your manuscript, scene by scene, and makes suggestions for changes.

Assuming, of course, he/she feels it needs any.

Here’s an example of what you might see, which comes from my former UK editor regarding one of my books:

Using this as a guide, I then go through the manuscript, read the passages in question, then make changes if necessary.

I then take this very same table and write a reply to my editor explaining why I didn’t make a suggested change, or if I did, what I changed it to.

Once the changes have been made, you then email or snail mail (depending on your editor’s preference) the revised manuscript and your editor reads it again, looking to see how it flows and whether the changes work.

If all is good, it’s a wrap. If all is NOT good, then you’re likely to get another letter/email/phone call with more suggested changes.

I normally get two or three pages like this. Much of it consists of line edits, simple corrections of spelling, missing words, that kind of thing, but some of it goes to character motivation and story.

I have friends who have gotten 10-30 pages worth. It all depends on the book and what your process is. Many writers send in a first draft that reads like a first draft, and they’re looking to the editor to give them feedback before the next draft (or two or three) and the final polish.

The key is that you have to trust your editor. Know that he or she is trying to get the best book possible out of you. And they, in turn, have to trust your judgment when it comes to which changes you decide to ignore and which ones you choose to make.

I remember after the editing process was done for my first book, I said to my American editor, “So what happens now? Do you take it to your boss and get final approval on the manuscript?”

He laughed and said, “This isn’t Hollywood, Rob. As far as I’m concerned, the book is good to go. It’s YOUR book. So if you think it’s ready, it’s ready.”