Don't block the quotes

Several years ago an author emailed me their manuscript, which on its own, isn’t a big deal, but I hesitated before double-clicking on the attachment. This author had already turned in the manuscript once, but as I’d worked through it, some problems had jumped out at me. One of them is a sticking point for a lot of academic authors. Maybe you’re inclined to do it, too.

I clicked “open attachment” and held my breath. This was the second try for a scholar attempting his first book. I love to work with first-time authors, partly because sometimes you get to see people grow into a sort of super-powered version of themselves through the process. This author had done deep research, spending months in archives where he found some information that added incredible context to the main argument he wanted his book to make.

But when I had gotten his first-draft manuscript in my inbox, the manuscript was overflowing with long, indented quotes. Some of them were really great. All of them were informative. They showed exactly what people were thinking at the time of the events the author was writing about. I could see how the quotes were carefully ordered so that, if I really thought about them, I could see the author’s argument in the negative space.

Speaking of Author Club…

But the way it was presented relied entirely too much on the reader holding onto the underlying themes in the quoted material.

The issue at hand comes with some irony: people skip over the stuff you thought you’d packaged up like a gift for them to read.

Okay, not all people! In my Author Club, we found that most members are the kind of people who LOVE block quotes, who will read them and consider them deeply. They pore over charts, comparing them to the text, and love the texture a good footnote can add to a reading experience.

But for lots of people (the “general readers” you might be hoping to reach, and certainly many students) any of those elements are signals to skip ahead. If you’re not careful, block quotes can do something even more damaging to your book. They can steal your voice.

The author put other people’s words ahead of his own, and sometimes simply let them speak for him. It didn’t work.

I told him to do two things:

1. Ideally, devour the quoted material and then on the page, tell his reader what matters from it. At the end of a Sherlock Holmes story, the great detective identifies the culprit and connects all the dots. He doesn’t just list the pieces of evidence and let Lestrade figure it out for himself (it probably wouldn’t work, anyway).

   Giorgios Seferis, a Greek poet, famously said, “Don’t ask me who’s influenced me. A lion is made up of all the lambs he’s digested, and I’ve been reading all my life.”

2. If he must use block quotes, first reduce the number and volume of them, and then always make sure they are preceded by his own assertion and followed by explicit analysis that helps readers understand how it builds the argument.

3. Don’t hide behind other people’s words. To be an author, it’s necessary to claim the authority to speak for yourself. Let others’ words support yours, not the other way around. Step up. Step forward. Let your voice be heard.

When I started to read the manuscript that came back after a year-long rewrite, I was nervous. What if it was the same? What if it was worse? What if I was wrong that hearing the author’s unique voice would make the book better? The document loaded and what I read was full of his voice. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. It felt like the book that needed to be written. It was bold, but well-supported. I felt a trickle of relief.

I sometimes tell my kids that to learn from your mistakes is necessary, but to be able to learn from other people’s mistakes is even better.

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