As I Was Editing

 

 Chapter 23 began with a description of the setting. You know the type – the sun sparkled off the water, houses built of grey stone, etc. The main character did not appear until the third paragraph, and she did nothing but marvel at the view until in the fifth paragraph another character appeared. 

It was "lights, camera, action" in a slow sequence. No. I need action first, get the characters on the stage, then work in the setting and light as seen through their cameras. 

The setting will not be the way the author envisions it, not the way a picture shows it, but how the characters  see it. And in this scene, one is entranced, the other bored.

Another thing to watch for as I do my final edit!

– Cat

Editing my Saga

[this was originally posted in February 2015]



I'm working on the final edit of book 1 of the FORTUNE saga.

I had originally conceived a trilogy, had my titles picked out, rough synopses and timelines. I knew how this story that started in book 1 would end.  The drama, the tears, the adventure, the danger, the steamy sex comprise the meat between the beginning and the end.

And then I had second thoughts. Book 2, while it continued the story, consisted of a lot of padding and filler, and unnecessary subplots to bring the word count equal to book 1.

I decided to streamline and combine books 2 and 3. This will, I believe, make for a much stronger story. And the end, that longed for desirable ending will come that much sooner.

The story has undergone many revisions since I first  began working on it. Presently, it bears no resemblance to the first draft written years ago. I've also done numerous edits, and feel this is my final go round at it.  The next will be done by a professional editor.

I've been able to take out words, sentences, entire paragraphs that do not drive the story forward. And it's easier than I thought to take out my "darlings," those delightful turns of phrase that showed I could be eloquent, yet say nothing at the same time.

And though I knew during previous edits that –ly adverbs were a writer's bane, my search turned up a large number of them. Solution: search, destroy, and find a powerful verb that does not require description.

Adjective overuse is another weakness of mine. I found strings of two, often three adjectives to describe people, places, events. I needed at most one pertinent adjective, maybe none at all. This is where a strong noun comes into play.

I have read scenes out loud, but was still too close to the writing to pick out flaws. Then, I found that hearing my words spoken by someone else helped point out overused and wrongly used words, and structural deficiencies.

I have a program that lets me highlight a section and click "read that." A computer voice does the reading and the words flow. It's a female voice with a British accent, and it works well for me.  After all, the story takes place during the Victorian era.

In one paragraph there were four occurrences of the word "had" and one "had not." And I read this myself many times and didn't notice until "someone else" mentioned them.

Another thing I'm doing is keeping track of the pages per chapter. I can see how each chapter works, almost like a three or five act play, with a beginning scene, heightening of tension, a climax, a brief relaxation, with a final return to tension to lead into the next chapter.

Not every chapter follows this pattern, but it seems to be working so far. And I have noticed in the last two chapters that I've edited that I have several long scenes that are basically explanations to inform the reader.  These explanations, however, are more for my benefit than for the reader's, and can be reduced or written out. Let the reader learn these things when the character learns them. No point in over explaining.

– Cat

The more things change…

 
The more they stay the same.

This poem is an ageless warning to be prepared (well-edited) before sending our beloved kids, er, sagas into the world.

Written some 350 years ago

The Author to her Book

by Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672)

Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth did'st by my side remain,
Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true,
Who thee abroad expos'd to public view,
Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call.
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
Thy Visage was so irksome in my sight,
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.
I wash'd thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.
I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet,
Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet.
In better dress to trim thee was my mind,
But nought save home-spun Cloth, i' th' house I find.
In this array, 'mongst Vulgars mayst thou roam.
In Critics' hands, beware thou dost not come,
And take thy way where yet thou art not known.
If for thy Father askt, say, thou hadst none;
And for thy Mother, she alas is poor,
Which caus'd her thus to send thee out of door.


--Cat--off to do revisions--wash the kid's grubby hands and change her socks.

True Heroes

No, not the heroes in my books.
These are real heroes that I came upon as I researched two novels.

William Francis Butler and William Henry Brewer -- the first Irish-born, the second American -- were as dissimilar as any two men could be. Yet there were things they had in common, some trivial, some more important: they share the same first name, both died in 1910, both showed compassion for the animals that pulled or carried them on their treks -- Butler for sled dogs and horses, Brewer for mules -- in an age where service animals were often treated brutally by their masters. And both had work -- albeit very different -- to do and did it courageously despite undergoing terrible physical hardships.

William Francis Butler October 31, 1838 – June 7, 1910)

Though Irish and Catholic, he is best known as a British Army officer, writer, and adventurer.
His exciting life in the army brought him to western Canada several times, one of his missions for the Canadian government to report on the state of the fur trade, the Indians and to investigate the need for troops in the west. Largely due to his report, the Canadian government formed the North West Mounted Police, which evolved into the RCMP.

Army commissions took him all over the world to posts in places such as India, Canada, West Africa, South Africa, Sudan... He rose to the rank of Lieutenant General, opposed the Boer war, for which he was criticized, even branded a maverick by the War Office, supported Home Rule for Ireland.

In 1872 Butler published "The Great Lone Land" the story of his four thousand mile journey through the Canadian west, an epic adventure that details the undertaking in such a way that reveals as much about his humanity and integrity as it does about the beauty and dangers of the land he traverses.

William Henry Brewer September 14, 1828 -- November 2, 1910

American scientist, botanist, teacher, born New York, attended Yale, then studied natural science, organic chemistry, and chemistry in Europe. During the years 1860-1864, Brewer was the chief botanist of the California Geological Survey, a comprehensive survey of the geology of California and the Pacific Coast. His journals and letters from that time were published 1930 as Up and Down California in 1860-1864.

He and his stalwart party zigzagged through California, charting many previously unexplored areas, veering from blistering desert heat to bitter high mountain cold. These often punishing treks, from

Mount Brewer, in the Sierra Nevada mountain range, is named after him.

His recommendations about Alaska led to its purchase by the United States in 1867.

Brewer was known for his extensive work in public service.

– Cat




Did you ever read the memoirs Of a person who’s long dead, Survived famine, flood, and major wars And now is messing with your head?

George Orwell's advice to writers

 George Orwell - real name Eric Arthur Blair
 
June 25, 1903 - 1950


I came across an essay written by Orwell and was struck by how relevant these words are today. The essay is too long to post here, but here are a few paragraphs:

Politics and the English Language, 1946

Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it. Our civilization is decadent and our language -- so the argument runs -- must inevitably share in the general collapse. It follows that any struggle against the abuse of language is a sentimental archaism, like preferring candles to electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes. Underneath this lies the half-conscious belief that language is a natural growth and not an instrument which we shape for our own purposes.

Now, it is clear that the decline of a language must ultimately have political and economic causes: it is not due simply to the bad influence of this or that individual writer. But an effect can become a cause, reinforcing the original cause and producing the same effect in an intensified form, and so on indefinitely. A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts. The point is that the process is reversible. Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits which spread by imitation and which can be avoided if one is willing to take the necessary trouble. If one gets rid of these habits one can think more clearly, and to think clearly is a necessary first step toward political regeneration: so that the fight against bad English is not frivolous and is not the exclusive concern of professional writers.
~
... one can often be in doubt about the effect of a word or a phrase, and one needs rules that one can rely on when instinct fails. I think the following rules will cover most cases:

(i) Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.

(ii) Never us a long word where a short one will do.

(iii) If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.

(iv) Never use the passive where you can use the active.

(v) Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.

(vi) Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

~

I have not here been considering the literary use of language, but merely language as an instrument for expressing and not for concealing or preventing thought. Stuart Chase and others have come near to claiming that all abstract words are meaningless, and have used this as a pretext for advocating a kind of political quietism. Since you don't know what Fascism is, how can you struggle against Fascism? One need not swallow such absurdities as this, but one ought to recognize that the present political chaos is connected with the decay of language, and that one can probably bring about some improvement by starting at the verbal end. If you simplify your English, you are freed from the worst follies of orthodoxy. You cannot speak any of the necessary dialects, and when you make a stupid remark its stupidity will be obvious, even to yourself. Political language -- and with variations this is true of all political parties, from Conservatives to Anarchists -- is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind. One cannot change this all in a moment, but one can at least change one's own habits, and from time to time one can even, if one jeers loudly enough, send some worn-out and useless phrase -- some jackboot, Achilles' heel, hotbed, melting pot, acid test, veritable inferno, or other lump of verbal refuse -- into the dustbin, where it belongs.

~~
Orwell was very pro-English--this was written one year after the end of WWII, and his prejudices are often apparent. I agree with much of what he states; his rules apply to writers of prose as well as political writers/journalists.

I admit I often use long words where short ones will do, because the long one seems so right. Perhaps that makes me pretentious. I can argue that it's my characters being pretentious.What would Orwell think if he knew that computer chat rooms and cell phone text messaging have created a new version of "English" shorthand? I cringe when I see phrases like c u l8ter. Maybe I'm just too old to appreciate the beauty of words that have been condensed to their simplest forms. Or I've been programmed by years of reading to want a word to be written as a word.

~

– Cat