Joy Wotherspoon Hoppenot is a freelance book editor and apprentice writer
of creative nonfiction. Before moving from the U.S. to France in 2008, she worked
and lived in non-profit organisations and spiritual communities in Washington
state, trying on many roles, including cook, crafts maven, ESL teacher/reading
tutor, caregiver and staff manager in a community for adults with developmental
disabilities, and staff member at a homeless day shelter. She currently facilitates
the Writers’ Alliance, a discussion group for English-speaking writers, in
Grenoble, France.
· What does writing mean to you?
I grew
up in a religious culture that is very conservative and image-oriented, so as a
child I often felt restricted about what I could say or even feel. I escaped to
a world of reading and writing where I was free to be myself and express
anything and everything. So, at various times, writing has been an act of
defiance, of necessity, of self-preservation, and of healing, as well as a
search for connection and authenticity. Once I authorised myself to write as an
adult (a journey in itself!), it was easy enough to get the words to flow onto
the page for my own benefit. But I call myself an apprentice writer at this
point because I’m aware that it’s much more difficult to craft a piece that
speaks to others as well. There can be such a gap between the story
stirring in my heart and mind and what actually shows up on the page! So I’ve
been taking online classes, networking with other writers, and trying to strike
an elusive balance of bravery and humility.
· What situations/environments inspire you?
I’ve
always felt most at peace and alive surrounded by nature. I grew up in the northwest
corner of the United States, and my spirit feels a little deprived if I’m away
from either mountains or ocean for too long, so I’m lucky to live in a French
village within walking distance of hills and lakes now. However, during my
adolescence, my family lived in the middle of the U.S. in a region so flat that
locals joked, “it’s not the end of the world, but you can see it from here,”
and that was one of the most prolific writing times in my life. So maybe a little
deprivation can be inspiring—or at least motivating—too! In terms of
creativity, being outdoors helps me centre and free up my creative mind, as
well as pay close attention to my senses. I’m also inspired by acts of great
courage and vulnerability, which help me dare to be more honest in my life and
work.
· Tell me about your non fiction writing?
I’m
most drawn to creative nonfiction—memoir, personal essay, and experimental
forms like the lyric essay, which I’ve heard described as “nonfiction meets
poetry meets your grocery list.” It’s rooted in reality, but the form is more
narrative and free than what we’d traditionally think of as nonfiction—it’s not
just a medium for transmitting unbiased information anymore. I’ve been
prewriting a book-length memoir on my experience growing up in fundamentalist
Christianity in the U.S., but it is still largely unformed. The scope of the
project (both the length and the emotional work involved in the writing) got a
little daunting for a first project. So, this year, I’ve set my sights on
shorter, more attainable goals. The essay has been a good home for me lately.
· What are the
challenges of writing in that genre?
I feel like there’s both a great hunger for and
resistance to true stories and personal stories (large and small) in our
culture at the moment. I get a lot of “oh, that’s so cute you’re writing your
memories down, but it’s not real literature” kind of responses from other
writers, but then I find out later that they love watching reality TV or
documentaries or reading first-person essays online. I think there’s a deep
human desire to see our experiences reflected in the world, in every form, as
well as to understand people different from ourselves. Creative nonfiction
(CNF) as a genre is kind of the new kid on the literary block, and it’s not
always understood or respected, and it’s been difficult for me to find critique
partners or writing classes in my field of interest. I don’t think that fiction
and creative nonfiction are actually all that incongruous in terms of craft
lessons (what makes the writing resonate), but the creative process is very
different between the two. There are a lot of ethical considerations when
writing about real people and events, not to mention the constraints of reality,
that fiction writers don’t have, and all CNF writers have our own emotional
taboos and gremlins to overcome and confront. I’ve become aware very quickly
that “truth” is sort of a relative concept when it comes to memory. The act of
writing something down even once can shift your memory and perception of an
event, so I’ve learned I have to take notes immediately. By the 7th or 8th
draft, I start to wonder if the story is closer to fiction than fact—I guess
that’s where the “creative” bit of CNF comes in! Even without that, though, the
goal is to write to the emotional truth of a memory or event, even if some of
the details get a little smudged in the process. That’s my take on it, anyway;
others might disagree. It can be controversial!
· Have you any
plans to write fiction?
Well, my life has been so unpredictable to date that
I’m learning not to rule anything out! I have thought about taking a class or
two to be able to better relate to fiction writers in my editing work.
· Tell me a bit
about the Writers’ Alliance you lead in Grenoble.
I tend to balk at the word “leader” when it comes to
this group—I usually say I facilitate because the writers in our association
are so bright, dynamic, and competent that the discussion sort of runs itself. We’re
one of the activity groups in Open House, which is an association for English
speakers in Grenoble. During the 2013-2014 school year (in connection with the
French social calendar), we had a core group of 8 members including myself, and
we met two afternoons a month for discussion on topics related to writing and creativity.
Next year, we’ll be adding a component of work sharing for critique and writing
practice. The gender bias of the group (as with many in Open House) is female,
but we have a few brave men on our roster, and I hope a few more will join us
next year when we offer an evening meeting for folks who work standard hours.
Our membership is really diverse, both in terms of genre and experience and
personal background, which makes for some rich and lively conversations.
· How much has
working with homeless people and those with disabilities impacted you as a
person? Has this impact affected the way you write?
The short answer is that I’m not sure I could do such
an interesting question justice in a short paragraph without falling into clichés,
so you’ll have to wait for the book! Without question, though, my years working
in nonprofits affected me deeply. They cracked me open so that I could start to
heal from some past traumas and become who I think I was meant to be as an
adult. Part of the mission statement at the homeless shelter was taking the
time to listen to each person’s sacred story. It was there that I witnessed the
power of claiming one’s voice and the gift of being heard by a compassionate
witness, which has definitely contributed to my interest in reading and writing
memoir. Both communities showed me how much joy can come out of sharing our own
authentic opinions and gifts, in all their diversity and brokenness. I learned
that it might be OK to show people my rough edges, that I could maybe even be
known and loved because of them. It’s a really difficult and imperfect process,
but I think that each of our stories has the potential to touch another person
deeply, if we can find the courage to tell them in a real way.
·
What are the potential
pitfalls of editing someone’s work?
Having been on both sides of the red pen, I
know that being edited or critiqued can be an extremely vulnerable process.
When it’s my work under scrutiny, I want to be told, “It’s brilliant! A runaway
best seller! I wouldn’t change a thing.” But of course, most of us are not
spinning out gold, at least not on the first draft. We need an outside reader
to catch the things we’re too enmeshed in a piece to see. I try to make the
editing stage as painless for clients as possible, but I’m continually learning
and refining my process. There’s quite a range of understanding (and
misunderstanding) around what writers and editors mean when we say proofreading and editing, especially now that so many first-time writers are self-publishing.
Sometimes people are just not ready to get feedback from an outside reader.
Sometimes the editor and writer disagree, which can actually lead to some good
discussions if feelings don’t get hurt along the way. But the majority of the
time I’ve had issues, have been because the scope of the project was poorly
defined, which is on me as the editor. This leads in well with your next
question.
· Do you agree in advance how much
intervention you will give in someone’s work?
Absolutely. Because there is such a range of
needs and expectations out there, I’ve found that I need to communicate in
advance with potential clients about the types of editing I offer, clarify the
type or types they desire for their project, and pin down every parameter I can
imagine (via a questionnaire) before contracts are signed. This process has
become more streamlined as I’ve gained experience, but it still takes a little
time upfront to be sure that both author and editor are on the same page and
feeling like they are part of a team. Sometimes unforeseen challenges do come
up. I’ve had to renegotiate the contract in the middle of a project before, but
that’s really not my preference. I’ve learned to ask to see a sample of a part
of the book authors are feeling less secure about in order to give the most
accurate estimate of time and budget before I start to edit. I work on keeping
the lines of communication open during the editing process so that if issues do
come up, they can be resolved quickly.
· If you had one tip to give to an editor, what
would this be?
I’m mainly speaking
to other freelance editors, since in-house editors face a different set of
challenges than those I’ve experienced. Stay informed and find a professional
network of some kind that suits your style, whether this is a formal editing
association, online forum, other editors in online classes, or social
networking group. Editing is a fairly solitary act, especially for freelancers.
It can get lonely, and the technology is changing pretty quickly at the moment,
which can be overwhelming. E-books, platforms, macros . . . it can all make an
indie writer or editor want to crawl under the desk, so don’t be afraid to ask
for help. After going it alone for the first 5 years, I started networking and
doing more trainings in the last year, and I’ve found it so helpful and
reassuring to have e-colleagues. I can recommend the Editorial Freelancers
Association (EFA) and Author-Editor Clinic for folks in North America, and I
follow the SfEP (Society for Editors and Proofreaders) on Twitter and Louise
Harnby’s excellent blog (both based in the UK).
· What are your
future writing plans?
Right now a lot of my creative energy is going toward
expanding my freelance editing business, but I’m in the process of revising a series
of lyric essays, with an eye on entering some contests in the fall.
· How can writers
connect with you?
Writers are welcome to check out my website to learn more about my editing services: http://www.fntediting.com I’m also happy to
make connections on LinkedIn or Twitter.
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