- Jun 27, 2017
Welcome to this month’s Craft Chat: How We Edit. We all do this differently when honing our manuscripts, but there are some editing processes it's good to know. Please share your own experience, whatever you've learned that works for you.
As before, the discussion thread will be open for FIVE DAYS from when we post the Chat. Let us know your thoughts and experiences. If you disagree with anything, that’s fine. Tell us why. We love hearing from you. All opinions are welcome and valid additions to our learning. Keep it civil.
Rachel (RK Capps), Galadriel, Kay (Ancora Imparo)
EDITING
Writers fight their inner critic every time they put pen to paper. At any stage of our writing lives, first drafts vomit our raw ideas onto the page, especially if we’re brave and ignore the inner critic nagging for perfection. Write hot and fast, edit slow and steady. Therefore, our first drafts become the writer equivalent of the sculptor’s unshaped clay.
Once we gain some distance and objectivity, we need to roll our sleeves up, tuck into editing and shape our clay. We have many tools at our disposal for this task. In fact, we’re spoilt for choice. A few of the tools I use may or may not suit you, but I hope they inspire you. I invite everyone to share their favourite tools. We’re excited to read them.
My favourites include:
Rachel
WORD TRIMMING
I avoid any cutting until the story has a definite shape and length (Take a look at the link at the bottom to see what the average length of a novel is expected to be). In my eyes, it’s better to write up and then cut as opposed to scrabbling about trying to increase the word count.
Reasons to Trim:
1. Too many words in your novel, full-stop. See link at the bottom.
2. Too many unnecessary words. This includes purple prose, excessive use of filter words, and overly repeated words including tautological sentences.
3. Repetitive scenes and/ or dialogue.
4. Less is often more when it comes to describing action and plot.
Looking at the Draft as a whole
My first novel originally ran to just over 140K; far too many words for a YA. Yet, every time I worked on it, it would manifest more words.
In the end, I paid an editor to look over it. It wasn’t cheap as I recall, but he delivered precise insight.
The fault lay in not being clear about what I wanted the story to be about. I was dithering with more than one main thread, and overcomplicating with various subplots. I didn’t even have the excuse that it was a first draft.
I had to slash, not trim. I picked out one storyline (which surprisingly evolved naturally into the “right” one), and relegated everything else to my outtakes folder.
Thousands of words lighter, I had a clean and clear structure to rebuild. After, when the work feels solid with a clear beginning, middle and end, I’ll comb through my chapters.
I’ve covered point 1. The next is a refinement of it. I’m looking closely at what’s going on in chapters and scenes. I examine at sentence and paragraph level first, then I’ll scan individual words.
Purple prose: I’ve been guilty of this. It’s overly descriptive writing. For example, it’s unnecessary to whitter on for several paragraphs about the landscape your protagonist is experiencing. You don’t need to infill the reader’s brain with every detail. Firm strokes and a dabble of detail is often better (there’s always exceptions. The old adage is: know the rules before you break them). The reader wants to be propelled into the narrative’s action and what the characters are doing. Being held up in descriptions of weather and setting impede the flow.
Excessive use of filter words: these are sensory words such as: saw, tasted, heard, felt, and thought processes such as wondered, thought, realised, heard. They often follow pronouns: I heard, we thought, he decided, etc. Some use is fine, but if you’re peppering your writing with several of these in a paragraph alone, chances are you keep reminding the reader that they are reading a story rather than being immersed in it; you’re telling, not showing. It’s the same as purple prose, too much explaining.
Overly repeated words including tautological sentences: these can chime in your reader’s head and clutter prose. If you’re using Word, you can use the find and replace function to ring the changes on repeated words. Let’s say you want to see how many times you’ve used the word “then.” Word will highlight its use, and if it appears several times on a page, it may (depending on the word class), be irritating for a reader.
Example:
Overuse of (or the same) discourse markers, such as “then,” “after,” and “later.”
Overuse of adverbs, such as “really,” “hopelessly,” and “lazily.”
Or you might find “clump” is your go to word for describing anything from grass to a character’s hair. Omit or change.
Tautological sentences are repeating the same thing using different words. It’s a device that can work powerfully in a speech or poetry. In prose, the writer must make a judgement about whether to trim such words. The ones below are unnecessary.
Examples:
My tea is scorching hot.
Night is dark and black.
“Can you repeat the instructions again?”
The reader wants to be propelled forward.
Repetitive Scenes and / or Dialogue
In the thick of writing, this is easily done. Scenes and dialogue must advance the story, not go over old ground. Scenes that are similar, especially the ones that “over-egg the cake.”
Less is often more when it comes to describing action and plot
Consider how many scenes you actually need to achieve a coherent story that doesn’t disappear amid a heap of subplots. Being too clever can lead to a story that is overly complicated. Be active and be ruthless! Stick them in your outtakes folder.
Now read your work aloud
That is a fool-proof way of testing to see what errors remain. If you’re tripping over reading it aloud, your sentences may be too long, too convoluted; more word cutting (or punctuation – but that’s for another CC) perhaps. Not every sentence has to be long; not every sentence has to be short; balance.
And finally, be mindful that over-trimming exists. Too much can flatten your writing and deaden your prose ( I believe that’s a tautological sentence ).
How Long Should My Novel Be? | Writers & Artists (writersandartists.co.uk)
(357) Cutting Words: How You Can Delete 50,000 Words From Your Book - YouTube
Galadriel
HOW I EDIT
Rough order of editing I’m in the UK. Our US colleagues may use different terminology. Also, this process isn’t set in stone but I’m assuming you don’t work in a publishing or magazine office where you can hand the ms over to colleagues for a 2nd and 3rd (or 5th and 6th) read. Editing your own work is harder but, unless you can afford to pay an editor, you have to do it. Please put aside the idea that your agent or publisher will “sort it all out”. Apart from being breathtakingly arrogant and naïve, trust me: Those Days Are Gone.
Write the book. You may be the type who edits as you go along. That’s a hard habit to break so if it makes you feel better, go ahead. Generally, if you close edit while still rewriting, you’re probably wasting your time honing words and scenes that may yet be cut. But it’s your time.
Make sure you format your ms document, too. No tabular indents for new paragraphs, or using the space bar, that kind of thing. Be professional from the start.
Put the ms aside. Some people put the finished book aside for a while. This depends on your deadlines. A day, week, month … six months … whatever you’re comfortable with. Writer Stephen King suggests six weeks. That gives you a bit of distance from your own work and makes it easier to spot character anomalies and glaring plot holes you blithely jumped over in the rush to reach The End.
Read it over (first read) – preferably aloud. I try to do this when I won’t be disturbed. Difficult, I know, with our busy lives but it helps if I have some peace and quiet to read and think about whether it all makes sense, if the plot works or is too weak around the mid-point, if the conflict rises towards the end, if characters are strong enough, etc. Whose point of view is the story told from? Have I jumped from first-person pov to omniscient? Check for this kind of thing.
This first read is where I think about the big picture and what can be strengthened: does the structure work? (Is there a discernible storyline or just disparate scenes populated by the same characters?) Is there enough regular conflict? Are there enough hooks / questions / promises to hold the reader? Have I answered all questions, tied up all loose ends? Does the story make sense? Are there plot holes or weaknesses I thought I’d “get away with”? Don’t short-change your reader. Mend the plot holes.
Are the characters three-dimensional or too stereotypical? What about their personal arcs? Do they have one? Is the dialogue wooden? Work on improving it (again, reading aloud helps). Have you hit the right tropes for your genre? The right beats for your romance? The right techno-speak for your sci-fi? Enough blood for your vampires? Readers of every genre have certain expectations. Have you met them? Can you exceed them?
This is the point where I re-read my manuscript notesbook/s (you know the ones I mean), where I’ve been jotting down thoughts, ideas, expressions, characteristics for this story … and if I spot any little gems I’ve omitted from the first draft, I insert them. Anything that makes the ms sparkle.
Do any rewrites you think will improve the prose, pace or structure of the story. Look for superfluous words. Look for the same thing said twice but in a different way. Look for adjectives and adverbs that don’t add a damn thing to the sentence. Look for scenes and characters that don’t add a damn thing to the story. These are harder to cut. Be ruthless. If a character you like is just a sidekick / foil to the main character, cut them. Dialogue – is it weak and waffly or sharp and focussed? Does it take the story forward or meander round the houses because you’ve lost the plot and hope a long conversation about nothing might reunite you? Tighten all dialogue.
If you have a sub-plot, the first read-over is where you can check it makes sense within the overall structure of the story. Does it sit within the main story or read as a completely separate plot? If so, think of ways to strengthen it so it merges seamlessly with the main storyline. Have you seeded carefully? If you have red herrings dotted throughout the story, do they make their own kind of sense? Don’t add misdirection for the sake of it. Everything is stronger if there is a good reason for it being in the story, especially if it’s to misdirect the reader. If your mystery / thriller has floating clues, anchor them to something or cut them.
Think about the ending. Is it strong enough? Think about the beginning. Is it strong enough? Is there a way you can connect them, subtly? If not, don’t stress about it. It’s just an idea.
Have a break.
Read the ms again (second read). Repeat the above. If you haven't checked for repetition, check now. The ms is a bit cleaner and repeat words jump out more, especially if you're reading aloud. One writer I knew had no idea his characters "walked" everywhere. "Looked" is another word often repeated, and "that" (you can usually do without most, though not all, "that"s).
And again (third read. Some editors stick with two reads. I’m old-fashioned).
Let’s assume by this stage that you’re feeling confident. You’ve incorporated your beta readers’ comments. The characters have arcs, the story has structure, conflict, resolution and the plot makes sense. You’ve read it over till your eyes are twirling with tiredness. You’ve caught cartloads of typos, corrected grammatical aberrations and added literary lintels to every scene. You’re HAPPY WITH IT. Yay! Time for icecream
Mmmmm-maybe not yet, because ...
Now, line edit it. Don’t line edit until you are completely finished tinkering with the prose. Don’t pay an editor to line edit any full ms until you’re completely happy with it. The line edit is where I read every sentence slowly and deliberately – for sense, for flow, for rhythm, character, verisimilitude … for all those pesky wee commas I don’t need (and those I missed out, which I should insert). I read every word slowly and carefully, thinking about what I’ve written, every sentence, every paragraph, over and over until the end. Yes, I’ve rewriten, checked, cut, tightened and honed. That’s not a line edit. Only line edit at the very end, when you’ve finished all tinkering. By the end of your line edit, you’ll be sick to death of your ms (at least, I usually am). Now …
Proofread it. This is where I’m not the slightest bit interested in characterisation, scenes, extraneous words and expressions or whether the dialogue is tight or woolly – because hopefully I’ve sorted all that. Now I concentrate on just the words. Words like world -v- word. Their, they’re and there; its and it’s. Niece or nice, or even neice (I’ve seen that go through even though the writer spelled it correctly – the printer made a mistake and no one double-checked the final proof). Check. Every. Single. World. (Did you spot that one?)
I know you’re going to hate me now but we’re all professionals here, aren’t we? So … either find yourself a professional editor who will give your ms a final proofread or, if you can’t afford that, or don’t have a friend on Litopia who’ll help you out, then you have to
Proofread it again.
And now you’re done. Now you can have the icecream. Now you can send it to an agent or publisher (or publish it independently). And if the agent or publisher accepts it, you can be sure they will ask for some more rewrites or structural edits – and the whole process starts all over again.
Here are some of my own edits, which I took a note of after I’d written a first draft (the story is set in the 13th century, so that "sack of anvils" suits the time. I wouldn't use it in a 21st-century story):
I lunged, grabbed the cheese. (5 words)
BECAME:
I lunged for the cheese (5 words)
It was clear fighting wasn’t going to help us (9 words)
BECAME:
Fighting wasn’t going to help us. (6 words)
A glance at Master Gilbert showed him on the ground, his head bleeding, eyes closed, mouth slack. (17 words)
BECAME:
Master Gilbert fell, eyes closed, mouth slack. Blood ran down his face. (12 words)
Telling us something and then confirming it with action isn’t necessary; cut the “tell”:
He was too heavy for me to pull over to the tree – I tried, but he was heavy as a sack of anvils, and my right arm was weak, sticking to my sleeve with blood. (35 words; 3 of them “was”; also, telling -v- showing. For action, it’s stronger to show.)
BECAME:
I tried pulling him over to the tree but he was heavy as a sack of anvils and my right arm was sticking to my sleeve with blood. (28 words; 2 x “was”)
BECAME:
I tried pulling him to the tree, but he was heavy as a sack of anvils and my arm ached. Blood seeped through my sleeve. (25 words; 1 was)
BECAME:
I couldn’t pull him to the tree – he was heavy as a sack of anvils. My arm ached. Blood seeped through my sleeve. (23 words)
BECAME:
I couldn’t pull him to the tree. He was heavy as a sack of anvils and blood seeped through my sleeve. (21 words)
I’ve put in bold the ones I prefer (at the moment). I’ll probably change my mind. That’s okay. This is just to show you the process. Sometimes we add (for clarity, information, or atmosphere), sometimes we delete (to hone and help the pace).
Whatever you do, please don’t think once you’ve written your book and given it a quick proofread, it’s ready for publication. Close editing, preferably by more than one editor, usually makes stronger books.
Ancora Imparo
As before, the discussion thread will be open for FIVE DAYS from when we post the Chat. Let us know your thoughts and experiences. If you disagree with anything, that’s fine. Tell us why. We love hearing from you. All opinions are welcome and valid additions to our learning. Keep it civil.
Rachel (RK Capps), Galadriel, Kay (Ancora Imparo)
EDITING
Writers fight their inner critic every time they put pen to paper. At any stage of our writing lives, first drafts vomit our raw ideas onto the page, especially if we’re brave and ignore the inner critic nagging for perfection. Write hot and fast, edit slow and steady. Therefore, our first drafts become the writer equivalent of the sculptor’s unshaped clay.
Once we gain some distance and objectivity, we need to roll our sleeves up, tuck into editing and shape our clay. We have many tools at our disposal for this task. In fact, we’re spoilt for choice. A few of the tools I use may or may not suit you, but I hope they inspire you. I invite everyone to share their favourite tools. We’re excited to read them.
My favourites include:
- Kay (Ancora Imparo) taught me to focus on last word of sentences. I’ve since read this advice, so you may have as well. The last word of a sentence chimes in the reader’s brain. Not only is the last word more memorable than the previous words in the sentence, but it ends your sentence on a strong note.
Vomit: I count seventeen petals and notice no more.
Edit: : I count fewer than seventeen petals.
- I’ll search for sentences with “by.” With this search, I might find words like “baby”. I skim that, but catch phrases where simple reorganisation enhances reading (sometimes passive voice, sometimes not). For example:
Vomit: We climb off the path, slipping into the shadows of a small grove, sheltered by a canopy of gum trees.
Let's consider how we could improve this. Just recognising the passive phrase doesn’t mean a straight fix completes our sentence. It doesn’t.
The passive phrase: sheltered by a canopy of gum trees.
If we fix just the passive phrase of the sentence, we get this:
Passive phrase fix: We climb off the path, slipping into the shadows of a small grove, a canopy of gum trees sheltering us.
Why isn’t this enough? Each phrase, each sentence, each paragraph must lead into the next. As Dwight Swaine writes in his book, Techniques of the Selling Writer (paraphrased), “meaning must be instantaneous.” And by just fixing the passive phrase IMHO, it isn't. In this sentence, the reader should know there are trees before there are shadows.
Final Edit: We climb off the path, slip into a grove of gum trees, the canopy of their shadows sheltering us.
Another simple example of removing words to strengthen a sentence:
Vomit: Someone grips me by the arm.
Edit: Someone grips my arm.
- I'm on a constant prowl for implied words. These words sneak into our WIPs like cockroaches, and we need to exterminate them. An example from an old WIP:
Vomit: Cool morning fog swirls around me, caressing me.
Is the 'around me' necessary? Or is it implied? We should avoid telling readers what they know or intuit, and that means considering every word.
Edit: Cool morning fog swirls, caressing me.
Written "I nodded my head"? Cut that back to "I nodded," for what else do you nod? Written "I stand up," cut that to "I stand." Written "I sit down," cut that to "I sit." The "up" and "down" are implied. Stay alert for words that are implied.
- Pace is something else I monitor. Am I varying the pace? On a blog years ago, I read pace described as a wave. I actually pictured a radio wave. The waves start deep, go up and down, then get smaller and faster. Tiffany Yates Martin (Pop Ups guest) has a good analogy when talking about momentum and pace:
Momentum is how well the manuscript propels readers through the story; pace is the speed at which it does. Both Niagara Falls and the Mississippi River have momentum, but each is moving at a very different pace. You can think of momentum as a function of story, pace as a function of scene.
Martin, Tiffany Yates. Intuitive Editing: A Creative and Practical Guide to Revising Your Writing (p. 175). E3 Press. Kindle Edition.
- Telegraphing: Another TYM piece of advice and something I avoid, and her words are better than I could write:
Another version of showing and telling, where the author steals her own thunder by telling readers what is going to happen or how a situation resolves before going on to show it. This deflates tension and robs the reader of the pleasure of seeing the story unfold before us; if you already tell us what’s coming, why do we need to read on?
Martin, Tiffany Yates. Intuitive Editing: A Creative and Practical Guide to Revising Your Writing (pp. 217-218). E3 Press. Kindle Edition.
- Weed out crutch words. Our brain baby vomits up words we end up repeating, and in order to keep stories moving in first drafts, we should repeat them. But it's important to be aware of them, for we need to come back and polish the mess (and this might take a few drafts), i.e. just, only etc.
Sure, we don't have to do this. We might self-publish, but then discerning readers could roast us in reviews, or worse, we won't gain traction from word-of-mouth. If we choose to traditionally publish, our premise may be strong enough to get the attention of an agent. But when they approach a publisher, our book needs to get past a committee. At that stage, if we haven't weeded out our crutch, odds are some discerning readers will shut us out.
So, beat the crowd and replace your crutch words with different and interesting verbs. Do you know your crutch words? My challenging crutch word is 'stare.' Geez, I hate that word. I often replace it with some other action, but I can't get rid of it. Plus, my comps use it and that's the audience I'm targeting. What do your comps do? If you search your comps, Kindle counts repetitions. Let your comps be your guide.
- I lastly offer food for thought from Shaelin’s prof (video below) re: weasel words like “just” and “now.” Obviously, this is his perspective and because I can’t find the video, I’ll paraphrase. When you remove weasel words 1. you can see your story, and 2. differentiate it from everyone who keeps their weasel words.
Rachel
WORD TRIMMING
I avoid any cutting until the story has a definite shape and length (Take a look at the link at the bottom to see what the average length of a novel is expected to be). In my eyes, it’s better to write up and then cut as opposed to scrabbling about trying to increase the word count.
Reasons to Trim:
1. Too many words in your novel, full-stop. See link at the bottom.
2. Too many unnecessary words. This includes purple prose, excessive use of filter words, and overly repeated words including tautological sentences.
3. Repetitive scenes and/ or dialogue.
4. Less is often more when it comes to describing action and plot.
Looking at the Draft as a whole
My first novel originally ran to just over 140K; far too many words for a YA. Yet, every time I worked on it, it would manifest more words.
In the end, I paid an editor to look over it. It wasn’t cheap as I recall, but he delivered precise insight.
The fault lay in not being clear about what I wanted the story to be about. I was dithering with more than one main thread, and overcomplicating with various subplots. I didn’t even have the excuse that it was a first draft.
I had to slash, not trim. I picked out one storyline (which surprisingly evolved naturally into the “right” one), and relegated everything else to my outtakes folder.
Thousands of words lighter, I had a clean and clear structure to rebuild. After, when the work feels solid with a clear beginning, middle and end, I’ll comb through my chapters.
I’ve covered point 1. The next is a refinement of it. I’m looking closely at what’s going on in chapters and scenes. I examine at sentence and paragraph level first, then I’ll scan individual words.
Purple prose: I’ve been guilty of this. It’s overly descriptive writing. For example, it’s unnecessary to whitter on for several paragraphs about the landscape your protagonist is experiencing. You don’t need to infill the reader’s brain with every detail. Firm strokes and a dabble of detail is often better (there’s always exceptions. The old adage is: know the rules before you break them). The reader wants to be propelled into the narrative’s action and what the characters are doing. Being held up in descriptions of weather and setting impede the flow.
Excessive use of filter words: these are sensory words such as: saw, tasted, heard, felt, and thought processes such as wondered, thought, realised, heard. They often follow pronouns: I heard, we thought, he decided, etc. Some use is fine, but if you’re peppering your writing with several of these in a paragraph alone, chances are you keep reminding the reader that they are reading a story rather than being immersed in it; you’re telling, not showing. It’s the same as purple prose, too much explaining.
Overly repeated words including tautological sentences: these can chime in your reader’s head and clutter prose. If you’re using Word, you can use the find and replace function to ring the changes on repeated words. Let’s say you want to see how many times you’ve used the word “then.” Word will highlight its use, and if it appears several times on a page, it may (depending on the word class), be irritating for a reader.
Example:
Overuse of (or the same) discourse markers, such as “then,” “after,” and “later.”
Overuse of adverbs, such as “really,” “hopelessly,” and “lazily.”
Or you might find “clump” is your go to word for describing anything from grass to a character’s hair. Omit or change.
Tautological sentences are repeating the same thing using different words. It’s a device that can work powerfully in a speech or poetry. In prose, the writer must make a judgement about whether to trim such words. The ones below are unnecessary.
Examples:
My tea is scorching hot.
Night is dark and black.
“Can you repeat the instructions again?”
The reader wants to be propelled forward.
Repetitive Scenes and / or Dialogue
In the thick of writing, this is easily done. Scenes and dialogue must advance the story, not go over old ground. Scenes that are similar, especially the ones that “over-egg the cake.”
Less is often more when it comes to describing action and plot
Consider how many scenes you actually need to achieve a coherent story that doesn’t disappear amid a heap of subplots. Being too clever can lead to a story that is overly complicated. Be active and be ruthless! Stick them in your outtakes folder.
Now read your work aloud
That is a fool-proof way of testing to see what errors remain. If you’re tripping over reading it aloud, your sentences may be too long, too convoluted; more word cutting (or punctuation – but that’s for another CC) perhaps. Not every sentence has to be long; not every sentence has to be short; balance.
And finally, be mindful that over-trimming exists. Too much can flatten your writing and deaden your prose ( I believe that’s a tautological sentence ).
How Long Should My Novel Be? | Writers & Artists (writersandartists.co.uk)
(357) Cutting Words: How You Can Delete 50,000 Words From Your Book - YouTube
Galadriel
HOW I EDIT
Rough order of editing I’m in the UK. Our US colleagues may use different terminology. Also, this process isn’t set in stone but I’m assuming you don’t work in a publishing or magazine office where you can hand the ms over to colleagues for a 2nd and 3rd (or 5th and 6th) read. Editing your own work is harder but, unless you can afford to pay an editor, you have to do it. Please put aside the idea that your agent or publisher will “sort it all out”. Apart from being breathtakingly arrogant and naïve, trust me: Those Days Are Gone.
Write the book. You may be the type who edits as you go along. That’s a hard habit to break so if it makes you feel better, go ahead. Generally, if you close edit while still rewriting, you’re probably wasting your time honing words and scenes that may yet be cut. But it’s your time.
Make sure you format your ms document, too. No tabular indents for new paragraphs, or using the space bar, that kind of thing. Be professional from the start.
Put the ms aside. Some people put the finished book aside for a while. This depends on your deadlines. A day, week, month … six months … whatever you’re comfortable with. Writer Stephen King suggests six weeks. That gives you a bit of distance from your own work and makes it easier to spot character anomalies and glaring plot holes you blithely jumped over in the rush to reach The End.
Read it over (first read) – preferably aloud. I try to do this when I won’t be disturbed. Difficult, I know, with our busy lives but it helps if I have some peace and quiet to read and think about whether it all makes sense, if the plot works or is too weak around the mid-point, if the conflict rises towards the end, if characters are strong enough, etc. Whose point of view is the story told from? Have I jumped from first-person pov to omniscient? Check for this kind of thing.
This first read is where I think about the big picture and what can be strengthened: does the structure work? (Is there a discernible storyline or just disparate scenes populated by the same characters?) Is there enough regular conflict? Are there enough hooks / questions / promises to hold the reader? Have I answered all questions, tied up all loose ends? Does the story make sense? Are there plot holes or weaknesses I thought I’d “get away with”? Don’t short-change your reader. Mend the plot holes.
Are the characters three-dimensional or too stereotypical? What about their personal arcs? Do they have one? Is the dialogue wooden? Work on improving it (again, reading aloud helps). Have you hit the right tropes for your genre? The right beats for your romance? The right techno-speak for your sci-fi? Enough blood for your vampires? Readers of every genre have certain expectations. Have you met them? Can you exceed them?
This is the point where I re-read my manuscript notesbook/s (you know the ones I mean), where I’ve been jotting down thoughts, ideas, expressions, characteristics for this story … and if I spot any little gems I’ve omitted from the first draft, I insert them. Anything that makes the ms sparkle.
Do any rewrites you think will improve the prose, pace or structure of the story. Look for superfluous words. Look for the same thing said twice but in a different way. Look for adjectives and adverbs that don’t add a damn thing to the sentence. Look for scenes and characters that don’t add a damn thing to the story. These are harder to cut. Be ruthless. If a character you like is just a sidekick / foil to the main character, cut them. Dialogue – is it weak and waffly or sharp and focussed? Does it take the story forward or meander round the houses because you’ve lost the plot and hope a long conversation about nothing might reunite you? Tighten all dialogue.
If you have a sub-plot, the first read-over is where you can check it makes sense within the overall structure of the story. Does it sit within the main story or read as a completely separate plot? If so, think of ways to strengthen it so it merges seamlessly with the main storyline. Have you seeded carefully? If you have red herrings dotted throughout the story, do they make their own kind of sense? Don’t add misdirection for the sake of it. Everything is stronger if there is a good reason for it being in the story, especially if it’s to misdirect the reader. If your mystery / thriller has floating clues, anchor them to something or cut them.
Think about the ending. Is it strong enough? Think about the beginning. Is it strong enough? Is there a way you can connect them, subtly? If not, don’t stress about it. It’s just an idea.
Have a break.
Read the ms again (second read). Repeat the above. If you haven't checked for repetition, check now. The ms is a bit cleaner and repeat words jump out more, especially if you're reading aloud. One writer I knew had no idea his characters "walked" everywhere. "Looked" is another word often repeated, and "that" (you can usually do without most, though not all, "that"s).
And again (third read. Some editors stick with two reads. I’m old-fashioned).
Let’s assume by this stage that you’re feeling confident. You’ve incorporated your beta readers’ comments. The characters have arcs, the story has structure, conflict, resolution and the plot makes sense. You’ve read it over till your eyes are twirling with tiredness. You’ve caught cartloads of typos, corrected grammatical aberrations and added literary lintels to every scene. You’re HAPPY WITH IT. Yay! Time for icecream
Mmmmm-maybe not yet, because ...Now, line edit it. Don’t line edit until you are completely finished tinkering with the prose. Don’t pay an editor to line edit any full ms until you’re completely happy with it. The line edit is where I read every sentence slowly and deliberately – for sense, for flow, for rhythm, character, verisimilitude … for all those pesky wee commas I don’t need (and those I missed out, which I should insert). I read every word slowly and carefully, thinking about what I’ve written, every sentence, every paragraph, over and over until the end. Yes, I’ve rewriten, checked, cut, tightened and honed. That’s not a line edit. Only line edit at the very end, when you’ve finished all tinkering. By the end of your line edit, you’ll be sick to death of your ms (at least, I usually am). Now …
Proofread it. This is where I’m not the slightest bit interested in characterisation, scenes, extraneous words and expressions or whether the dialogue is tight or woolly – because hopefully I’ve sorted all that. Now I concentrate on just the words. Words like world -v- word. Their, they’re and there; its and it’s. Niece or nice, or even neice (I’ve seen that go through even though the writer spelled it correctly – the printer made a mistake and no one double-checked the final proof). Check. Every. Single. World. (Did you spot that one?)
I know you’re going to hate me now but we’re all professionals here, aren’t we? So … either find yourself a professional editor who will give your ms a final proofread or, if you can’t afford that, or don’t have a friend on Litopia who’ll help you out, then you have to
Proofread it again.
And now you’re done. Now you can have the icecream. Now you can send it to an agent or publisher (or publish it independently). And if the agent or publisher accepts it, you can be sure they will ask for some more rewrites or structural edits – and the whole process starts all over again.
Here are some of my own edits, which I took a note of after I’d written a first draft (the story is set in the 13th century, so that "sack of anvils" suits the time. I wouldn't use it in a 21st-century story):
I lunged, grabbed the cheese. (5 words)
BECAME:
I lunged for the cheese (5 words)
It was clear fighting wasn’t going to help us (9 words)
BECAME:
Fighting wasn’t going to help us. (6 words)
A glance at Master Gilbert showed him on the ground, his head bleeding, eyes closed, mouth slack. (17 words)
BECAME:
Master Gilbert fell, eyes closed, mouth slack. Blood ran down his face. (12 words)
Telling us something and then confirming it with action isn’t necessary; cut the “tell”:
He was too heavy for me to pull over to the tree – I tried, but he was heavy as a sack of anvils, and my right arm was weak, sticking to my sleeve with blood. (35 words; 3 of them “was”; also, telling -v- showing. For action, it’s stronger to show.)
BECAME:
I tried pulling him over to the tree but he was heavy as a sack of anvils and my right arm was sticking to my sleeve with blood. (28 words; 2 x “was”)
BECAME:
I tried pulling him to the tree, but he was heavy as a sack of anvils and my arm ached. Blood seeped through my sleeve. (25 words; 1 was)
BECAME:
I couldn’t pull him to the tree – he was heavy as a sack of anvils. My arm ached. Blood seeped through my sleeve. (23 words)
BECAME:
I couldn’t pull him to the tree. He was heavy as a sack of anvils and blood seeped through my sleeve. (21 words)
I’ve put in bold the ones I prefer (at the moment). I’ll probably change my mind. That’s okay. This is just to show you the process. Sometimes we add (for clarity, information, or atmosphere), sometimes we delete (to hone and help the pace).
Whatever you do, please don’t think once you’ve written your book and given it a quick proofread, it’s ready for publication. Close editing, preferably by more than one editor, usually makes stronger books.
Ancora Imparo
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