Ten Tips for DIY Editing

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

A couple of weeks ago, I attended the Montana Writers Rodeo and wrote a post about the fun, enlightening conference experience.

Today, here are the 10 tricks (plus one bonus tip) from my workshop at the Rodeo on how to edit your own writing.

Newer writer: “Why should I worry about spelling, grammar, and typos? The editor will fix them.”

Hate to break the news but that ain’t gonna happen. 

Being a professional means we’re responsible for quality of the book we turn out.

Whose name is on the cover?

Ours.

If there are errors, who gets blamed?

We do.

That’s an important reason to hone our own editing skills.

Whether you go the traditional route or self-publish, a well-written story without typos and errors increases your chance of successful publication.

Due to layoffs, fewer editors work at publishing houses. Those who remain are swamped with other tasks, leaving little time to actually edit. In recent years, I’ve noticed an uptick in grammar, punctuation, and spelling goofs in traditionally published books.

If you indie-pub, a book with errors turns off readers. 

The overarching goal of authors is to make the writing so smooth and effortless that readers glide through the story without interruption.

We want them to become lost in the story and forget they’re reading.

How can we accomplish that? By self-editing to the best of our ability.

As a freelance editor, what do I look for when I review a manuscript?

  • Is the writing clear and understandable?
  • Do stumbling blocks and awkward phrases interrupt the flow?
  • Are there unnecessary words or redundancies?
  • Are there nouns with lots of adjectives?
  • Do weak verbs need adverbs to make the action clear?

Here are my 10 favorite guidelines. Please note, I said guidelines, not rules! 

1. Delete the Dirty Dozen Junk WordsGo on a global search-and-destroy mission for the following words/phrases:

It is/was

There is/was

That

Just

Very

Really

Quite

Almost

Sort of

Rather

Turned to…

Began to…

Getting rid of unnecessary junk words tightens writing and makes stronger sentences.

Clear, concise narrative is your mission…with the exception of dialogue.

Characters ramble, stammer, repeat themselves, and backtrack. Natural, realistic-sounding dialogue uses colloquialisms, regional idiosyncrasies, ethnic speech patterns, etc.

Photo credit: Wikimedia

But, like hot sauce, a little goes a long way.

At the Rodeo, actor/director Leah Joki used excerpts from Huckleberry Finn to illustrate the power of dialogue.

But hearing it is different from reading it. If overdone, too much dialect can make an arduous slog. Imagine translating page after page of sentences like this one from Jim in  Huck Finn:

“Yo’ ole father doan’ know yit what he’s a-gwyne to do.”

  1. Set the stage – At the beginning of each scene or chapter, establish:

WHO is present?

WHERE are they?

WHEN is the scene happening?

If you ground the reader immediately in the fictional world, they can plunge into the story without wondering what’s going on.

  1. Naming NamesDistinctive character names help the reader keep track of who is who.

Create a log of character names used.

Easy trick: write the letters of the alphabet down the left margin of a page. As you name characters, fill in that name beside the corresponding letter of the alphabet. That saves you from winding up with Sandy, Samantha, Sarah, Sylvester.

Vary the number of syllables, e.g. Bob (1), Jeremiah (4), Annunciata (5).

Avoid names that look or sound similar like Michael, Michelle, Mickey.

Avoid rhyming names like Billy, Milly, Tilly.

  1. Precision Nouns, Vivid Verbs – Adjectives and adverbs are often used to prop up lazy nouns and verbs. Choose exact, specific nouns and verbs.

Instead of the generic word house, consider a specific noun that describes it, like bungalow, cottage, shanty, shack, chateau, mansion, castle. Notice how each conjures a different picture in the mind.

Photo credit: wikimedia CC BY 2.0 DEED

Holyroodhouse
Photo credit: Christophe Meneboeuf CC-BY-SA 4.0 DEED

Instead of the generic verb run, try more descriptive verbs like race, sprint, dart, dash, gallop. That gives readers a vivid vision of the action.

  1. Chronology and Choreography – Establish the timeline.

Photo credit: IMDB database

Quentin Tarantino can get away with scenes that jump back and forth in time like a rabid squirrel on crack.

But a jumbled timeline risks confusing the reader. Unless you have a compelling reason to write events out of order, you’re probably better off sticking to conventional chronology.

 

Are actions described in logical order? Does cause lead to effect? Does action trigger reaction?

Chronology also applies to sentences. In both examples below, the reader can figure out what’s going on, but which sentence is simpler to follow?

  • George slashed Roger’s throat with the knife as he grabbed him from behind after he sneaked into the warehouse.
  • Knife in hand, George sneaked into the warehouse, grabbed Roger from behind, and slashed his throat.

In theatre, actors and directors block each scene. Clear blocking helps the reader visualize events and locations.

Establish where the characters are in relation to each other and their surroundings.

Map out doors, windows, cupboards, stairwells, secret passages, alleys, etc. where a bad guy might sneak up on the hero, or where the hero might escape.

Locate weapons.

Does the hero or the villain carry a gun or knife? Establish that before the weapon magically appears. 

Pre-place impromptu weapons (golf club, baseball bat, scissors) where the hero can grab them in an emergency. Or put them just out of reach to complicate the hero’s struggle.

  1. When to Summarize? When to dramatize?

Photo credit: Public Domain

Summarize or skip boring, mundane details like waking up, getting dressed, brushing teeth…unless the toothpaste is poisoned!

Dramatize important events and turning points in the story, such as:

  • New information is discovered.
  • A secret is revealed.
  • A character has a realization.
  • The plot changes direction.
  • A character changes direction.

7. Dynamic description – Make descriptive passages do double duty.

Rather than a driver’s license summary, show a character’s personality through their appearance and demeanor.

Static description: He had black hair, brown eyes, was 6’6″, weighed 220 pounds, and wore a gold shield.

Dynamic description: When the detective entered the interview room, his ‘fro brushed the top of the door frame. His dark gaze pierced the suspect. Under a tight t-shirt, his abs looked firm enough to deflect a hockey puck. 

Put setting description to work. Use location and weather to establish mood and/or foreshadow.

Static description: Birds were flying. There were clouds in the sky. An hour ago, the temperature had been 70 degrees but was now 45. She felt cold.

Dynamic description: Ravens circled, cawing warnings to each other. In the east, thunderheads tumbled across a sky that moments before had been bright blue. Rising wind cut through her hoody and prickled her skin with goosebumps.

  1. Read Out Loud – After reading the manuscript 1000+ times, your eyes are blind to skipped words, repetitions, awkward phrasing.

To counteract that, use your ears instead to catch problems.

Read your manuscript out loud and/or listen to it with text-to-speech programs on Word, Natural Reader, Speechify, etc. Your phone may also be able to read to you. Instruction links for Android and iPhone.

  1. Be Sensual – Exploit all five senses. Writers often use sight and hearing but sometimes forget taste, smell, and touch that evoke powerful memories and emotions in readers.

Think of the tang of lemon. Did you start to salivate?

Smell the stench of decomposition. Did you instinctively hold your breath and recoil?

Photo credit: Amber Kipp – Unsplash

 

Imagine a cat’s soft fur. Do your fingers want to stroke it? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  1. What’s the Right (Write) Word? – English is full of boobytraps called homophones, words that sound the same but don’t have the same meaning.

Spellcheck doesn’t catch mixups like:

its/it’s

there/they’re/their

cite/site/sight, etc.

Make a list of ones that often trip you up and run global searches for them. Or hire a copyeditor/proofreader.

Bonus Tip – When proofreading, change to a different font and increase the type size of your manuscript. That tricks the brain into thinking it’s seeing a different document and makes it easier to spot typos.

Self-editing is not a replacement for a professional editor. But when you submit a manuscript that’s as clean and error-free as you can make it, that saves the editor time and that saves you $$$ in editing fees! 

Effective self-editing means a reader can immerse themselves in a vivid story world without distractions.  

And isn’t that what it’s all about? 

~~~

TKZers: What editing issues crop up in your own writing?

Do you have tricks to catch errors? Please share them.

When you read a published book, what makes you stumble?

~~~

 

One reason Debbie Burke likes indie-publishing: goofs are easy to correct. In Dead Man’s Bluff, she discovered FILES were circling an animal carcass instead of FLIES. Took two seconds to fix and republish.

Available at all major online booksellers. 

 

A Pair of Pants and Other Mysteries

Photo credit: Marcusstratus CC by NC SA 3.0

by Debbie Burke

 @burke_writer

The English language is full of quirks that are downright puzzling.

Take, for instance, the term a pair of pants.

Okay, a pair of shoes, a pair of glasses, a pair of aces—they all make logical sense. Two related objects make a pair.

But when was the last time you saw someone wearing a single pant?

Where did that weirdness come from?

According to Quora, it originated when people wore pantaloons, which were two separate pieces of clothing, put on one leg at a time. Eventually someone sewed them together, creating a singular garment, but the plural term stuck. The first recorded use of pants was in 1835 as a slang abbreviation for pantaloons.

Britannica says scholarly references don’t back up the sewn-together theory. Instead, they use the term, plurale tantum.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines plurale tantum, which is Latin for “plural only,” as a “noun which is used only in plural form, or which is used only in plural form in a particular sense or senses.” Bifurcated items (things that can be divided into two), such as pants, fall into this category. Think of items that are usually referred to in plural—often preceded by “pair of” or something similar, even when there is only one item: pliers, glasses, scissors, sunglasses, tweezers, etc. So, pants is a type of noun that is used only in its plural form, even when there is only one item being discussed.

 I dunno if I buy the plurale tantum argument. Back in the 1800s, few people could read, let alone comprehend Latin. I tend to believe the sewn-together legend as the more likely origin.

Since TKZ readers and wordsmiths focus on crime writing, let’s look at a couple of plurale tantum examples that are used as weapons.

Photo credit: Wikimedia

 According to Merriam-Webster, a pair of scissors originated from “Vulgar Latin”:

 …caesorium referred to a cutting instrument, and this Latin word was singular—even though the cutting instrument it named had two blades that slid past each other. When the word was borrowed into Middle French, French speakers gave it both a singular form (cisoire) and a plural form (cisoires). The plural didn’t refer to multiple cutting implements, however; it was modeled on the two blades of a single caesorium.

We began calling an individual scissors a pair to emphasize the matched cutting blades. There’s precedent for it. Before we called them scissors, we called them shears, and pair was used with shears for about 100 years before scissors arrived on the scene.

Alfred Hitchcock chose a pair of scissors as the weapon in his 1954 classic, Dial M For Murder.

 

Photo credit: Kandy Talbot CCA by 3.0

 

Another possible weapon is a pair of pliers.

The versatile tool was likely developed in Europe during the Bronze Age to handle and shape hot metal. An early Greek illustration shows the god Hephaestus at a forge using pliers.

Wikipedia says Hephaestus is “the Greek god of artisans, blacksmiths, carpenters, craftsmen, fire, metallurgy, metalworking, sculpture and volcanoes.”

In the 1973 film Charley Varrick, Walter Matthau and cohorts rob a bank that turns out to be a repository for mob money. Mobsters go hunting for Matthau’s gang. In the scene below, a villainous character tries to obtain information from a hapless banker who was in on the heist. The villain threatens torture with “a pair of pliers and a blowtorch.”

Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

 

 

According to the British Film Institute, Charley Varrick influenced director Quentin Tarantino who coopted the line about pliers and a blowtorch for Pulp Fiction (1994), delivered by the menacing Ving Rhames.

Warning: this link contains offensive language.

 

 

 

Digging deeper into pluralia tantum, here are some examples where the singular meaning is different from the plural:

Arm is a limb. Arms are weapons.

Brain is an organ. Brains are intelligence.

Custom is a traditional event. Customs is the government body that collects taxes on imported goods.

Damage is harm done to something. Damages are monetary compensation for harm.

Gut is the bowel. Guts are courage.

Enough linguistics for today. Let’s wrap up with some amusing inconsistencies in the English language.

In school, we learned I before E except after C, or when sounded like A as in neighbor and weigh.”

Then along comes a smarty pants to turn that rule on its head:

Sign outside bookstore:

I before E…Except when your foreign neighbor Keith receives eight counterfeit beige sleighs from feisty caffeinated weightlifters. Weird. 

~~~

 TKZers: which peculiarity of the English language baffles you the most?

The Great F-Bomb Debate


In John G’s Friday post, he gave us clips of his most recent editorial letter. One of the admonitions in it was to lose the F bombs, because “some people will object to it.”
I happen to agree with his editor. We’ve had this discussion before, but this seems a good time to focus on it a bit more, and get specific. Yes, artistic license and the First Amendment allow for its use. We’ve had decades of rants and even lawsuits defending the F bomb. Well, maybe it’s time for some arguments against it. Here are three for your consideration:
1. It might affect your market share
I think it’s more than some who object to the F bomb. I think it’s a lot. In today’s culture, there’s enough that’s offensive, from the slacker at the counter to the boor cutting you off in traffic and delivering a one finger salute.
People are pummeled enough by life. How many want to get whacked with F bombs when reading for pleasure?
So purely from a mercenary standpoint, why shrink your audience? As John’s editor said, no one ever complains that there aren’t any F bombs in a book. (I note here that I do believe there is a valid distinction to be made between this word and “milder” swearing. It’s the same distinction George Carlin made in his famous routine about the seven words you can’t say on television. You may research that one at your own risk).
2. It’s not original
When Lenny Bruce started using the F word in performance, it had shock value. When novelists and filmmakers picked up the practice, same thing. When Quentin Tarantino and the Coen Bros. tried to make an art form out of it, the tide started turning. It’s been done. No one is going to marvel at the creative use of the F word anymore.
You want to know what’s original? Finding ways not to use it. That takes more skill, just as it takes more skill for a comic to get a laugh without resorting to the word.
3. It’s not necessary
But, the protest will come, I write about reality! The F word is real. How can I write about gangs or mafia types without it?
Well, let’s see. How did one of the best TV shows of all time, which ran, what, 20 years, do it? Watch the early seasons of Law & Order. You will get a lesson in how to do gritty without F bombs. (Without, in fact, using any of those infamous seven words you can’t say on TV).
Here’s the thing: fiction is not a re-creation of reality. We have documentaries and non-fiction for that. Fiction is a stylistic rendition of reality for emotional effect. You want readers caught up in a fictive dream, and to leave them with an emotional wallop. You do this by being creative with language. If you use the F word, however, you’re liable to take a lot of readers out of the dream.
Now, maybe you’re a writer who doesn’t care, because you are, by thunder, going to write the word if you think you need it. Fine. I’m just saying we are the masters of the language, not the other way around. Are we shaping our book or is our book running us? The great film noirs and crime novels of the 40s and 50s managed to be every bit as suspenseful (and, to be frank, were usually better written) than much modern fare. Did lack of the F bomb hurt them? Do we think, Ah, that Dashiell Hammett, what a bore? Chandler, what a rube? I didn’t think so.
So what’s your take on the whole F bomb thing? And please, no comments about “censorship” here. That’s not even close to what I’m talking about. I’m a First Amendment guy. You’re free to use it if you want to.
Do you want to?