(I think I'm a natural-born copy editor and NSM a natural-born critic, but didn't realize it until recently, when I started judging writing contests. Those scoresheets, for all their flaws, force me to figure out and explain why some stories wow me and others leave me yawning and saying, "Bored now." Which is making me a better critique partner, but it's a learned process for me.)

Furthermore, "I have no idea what this sentence means" (which I have been known to write on close friends' betas) is absolutely a craft issue.

Lordy, yes. A thousand times, yes.

They think they're being staccato, Tarentino, and edgy, Deb.

Ah. Then I'm reaching for the wrong weapon when I reach for the red pen. Now, where's my Glock...?

the "cut every possible thing out, it's all fat anyway" school

Ah, the Hemingway-esque school. Has he been dethroned yet as the Holy Grail of stylists? I'm voting for Carson from Queer Eye.

It's one of my bigger weaknesses as a writer. Many commas, and not a period to be found for inches.

It could be worse. You could be Henry James.

You know, while I can see how that might be useful, I think my first reaction would be to grit my teeth.

Mine too. This is why I am grateful that beta is not often done in person, because after some thinking, I did come around to her point of view.

Oh, yeah. All major edits require a stiff drink and a healthy dose of private rage, after which I sheepishly admit that the editor is 90% right, and the other 10% definitely needs fixing.

"1974 called. It wants its syntax back."(tosses effort) Bye!

The Writer says " But they compare me to Hemingway."

"If I wrote that, I'd shoot myself, too." Queer Eye For The Writing Guy with Carson Kressley

This is why I am grateful that beta is not often done in person, because after some thinking, I did come around to her point of view.

My problem with that is, I can see myself completely agreeing with some, but wanting to smack her for others. And the sense that she didn't know what a metaphor is? Not good.

My editor has a particular hot button: the use of imagery in which people express things with their eyes, or have a particular look in their eyes, or their eyes express emotion. She gets very tight-lipped on the subject: eyes can't express anything. You can read something into them but they, themselves, are a muscle arrangement and a collection of rods and cones. They reflect and refract light.

So I try to avoid using those, although I dug my heels in on "There was a singular look in her eye." I do wish she wasn't quite so rigid about it, because I think that, in conjunction with the use of other face muscles, the muscles around the eyes play a huge part in expressing emotion.

And it's so much easier to shorten it up.

You can read something into them but they, themselves, are a muscle arrangement and a collection of rods and cones

Tell that to your pupils and tear ducts and sclera.

Although I think it's perfectly reasonable to include the muscles around the eye in the whole "eye" thing.

And by the by, I don't consider the long, convoluted sentence thing to be a grammar issue; it's a crafting issue to me.

True. 99/100 of my convoluted marathon-length sentences are perfectly and exquisitely grammatical, if I do say so myself. It's an issue of style, readability, and flow, not grammar per se.

As for typos, that doesn't arise in a real life setting; I'm reading aloud, they're listening.

In my Monday night critique group, we bring in enough copies for everyone, and one member (never the writer) reads it aloud to the group. I correct small typos/errors on the fly, and circle anything that really strikes me, positive or negative, so I can comment on it during the discussion. In one other group we meet infrequently and do up to 30 pages at once, so we read before we come, marking any problem areas, and just discuss the work at our meetings. The other is all online.

That's a peculiarly rigid stance, Deb. I can see how it could grow out of 100,000 bad similes about eyes being limpid pools of twue wuv, but for cri-yi.

My problem with that is, I can see myself completely agreeing with some, but wanting to smack her for others. And the sense that she didn't know what a metaphor is? Not good.

There was no need for smacking. She was not pretending she didn't know what a metaphor was; she was interrogating my lazy use of said metaphor to make sure I was aware of all the implications. If the literal word did not match my intended usage, then I needed to come up with an expression that was less ambiguous or messy.

In defense of Hemingwayesqueness, Hemingway did it well (although Hammett did it better). The real problem is slavish copycatting by people who aren't good at it, and also the exces of sweeping pronouncements of what makes good prose.