What’s in a name?

Welcome back, all! Sorry for the disappearing act last week.  Wish I could tell you the reason behind it involved fame and fortune, instead it was more along the lines of bills were due and if I want the ability to pay them to continue I must fulfill my oath to the cubicle gods and do what I promised. So I did.  All week long.  I even survived the strange liquid they call “rain” for it.  Oh the sacrifices I make.

Enough wallowing…on to our last editing piece of advice–the usage of names.

I’m not sure about other writers, but I snagged slots of time where I can to sneak away and put my stories to paper (or input into a computer, as the case may be).  The drawback to this approach is that while your story’s timeline maybe cruising right along, your writing timeline is not.  Therefore, what eventually reads as a mere five minutes for your characters across five pages, in reality took you two weeks to get down just right.  In this strange time warp of writing, I found that I have a tendency to think my readers may forget who they’re reading about. Probably because I’m so frustrated by various bumps and detours in those five pages, I’d rather give up and start with fresh new characters.  In a whole new story.  But I digress.

Imagine how shocked I was when one of my brilliant editors pointed out, quite gently and so compassionately, that perhaps I needed to discover the word “she” and “he” once more as prospective readers may suffer severe brain damage from being bashed continually over the head with my character names.  Mortification was immediate.  Said brilliant editor, then went on to explain that the words “she” and “he” are invisible to the readers unless you start too many sentences with those pronouns.

In keeping with my sharing actually examples, here’s my last one for you from Shadow’s Edge (if you want more, you’ll have to buy it when it comes out in November!)

Gavin came at her in a blur. Barely blocking his first hit, she responded with a snapping series of punches and kicks then dodged back out of reach. He pursued her. His hands struck out, followed by a quick foot-sweep.

She landed on her back, twisted to the side, crouched, and got her feet set, before kicking out. A solid hit to his thigh knocked him off balance just enough for her to pull back and set up for her next move. Back and forth they moved, focused and deadly, the silence broken by occasional grunts and the thick sound of flesh hitting flesh. Fifteen minutes later, they stepped back and bowed to each other.

Raine, chest heaving, was grateful to see Gavin breathing equally hard. There would be bruises and aches tomorrow, but the rage was banked for now, leaving her calmer, steadier. She met his eyes and found an echo of the primitive joy she always felt after a fight. Watching Gavin in predator mode touched her primal female core. Without thinking she gave him a fierce grin, receiving a similar baring of teeth.

“So, now that the preliminaries are out of the way,” she said. “What next?”

Gavin chuckled and shook his head. “You’re one of the few females I know, Raine, that gets off on fighting.”

“Hey a girl has to have a hobby.” Raine’s voice was muffled as she wiped the sweat off her face with a towel. “You have to admit it was fun.”

“It’s definitely one way to blow off a little steam.” Grabbing his own towel, he began to wipe his chest. Her eyes caught the motion.  Her breath hitched briefly before steadying out. His chest was truly fascinating, but looking was a dangerous indulgence, especially right now. However, her silent warning did not stop her damn hormones from clamoring for attention.

“I can think of other things that work just as well, if not better,” he offered, his voice darker, seductive. The flare of arousal in his green eyes let her know she’d been caught staring. “Like what you see?”

More than he’d ever know. “It’s distracting, but I’ll live,” she responded, knowing this attraction was a mess, just waiting to happen.

In this scene, if we remove a few proper names we get a more fluid scene.

He came at her in a blur. Barely blocking his first hit, she responded with a snapping series of punches and kicks then dodged back out of reach. He pursued her. His hands struck out, followed by a quick foot-sweep.

She landed on her back, twisted to the side, crouched, and got her feet set, before kicking out. A solid hit to his thigh knocked him off balance just enough for her to pull back and set up for her next move. Back and forth they danced, focused and deadly, the silence broken by occasional grunts and the thick sound of flesh hitting flesh. Fifteen minutes later, they stepped back and bowed to each other.

Raine, chest heaving, was grateful to see Gavin breathing equally hard. There would be bruises and aches tomorrow, but the rage was banked for now, leaving her calmer, steadier. She met his hooded gaze and found an echo of the primitive joy she always felt after a fight. Watching Gavin in predator mode touched her primal feminine core. Without thinking she gave him a fierce grin, receiving a similar baring of teeth.

“So, now that the preliminaries are out of the way,” she said. “What next?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re one of the few females I know that gets off on fighting.”

“Hey a girl has to have a hobby.” Her voice was muffled as she wiped the sweat off her face with a towel. “You have to admit it was fun.”

“It’s definitely one way to blow off a little steam.” Grabbing his own towel, he began to wipe his chest. Her eyes caught the motion and her breath hitched briefly before steadying out. His chest was truly fascinating, but looking was a dangerous indulgence, especially right now. However, her silent warning did not stop her damn hormones from clamoring for attention.

“I can think of other things that work just as well, if not better,” he offered, his voice darker, seductive. The flare of arousal in his green eyes let her know she’d been caught staring. “Like what you see?”

More than he’d ever know. “It’s distracting, but I’ll live,” she responded, knowing this attraction was a mess, just waiting to happen.

So now that we’ve covered some of the basic editing rules in the last few weeks, go forth, prepare and get ready to write.  Besides, NANO is just around the corner. Put your new-found skills to work and create your masterpiece!

Until next week! I’m going to go enjoy my Blood Red Eerie brought me!

Wicked

It’s hell on the weak when the strong are around…

We’re almost to the end of the editing tips journey, aren’t you happy?  This visit I thought we’d examine the infuriating world of strong versus weak, or what some like to call, active versus passive.  Many of us spent years in English class learning the difference between verbs that sit there and do nothing and those that rise to the top and poke your eyes out. 

Every writer faces this challenge and every reader has hit those passages that make them want to scream, “Just do it already!”.   No writer wants their reader to get bored and move on. That is not our goal as story tellers. We want our readers to stay up late through the night to finish “…just one more page” regardless of the fact that at the crack of dawn you have a meeting your entire career hinges upon.  That’s why there’s such thing as coffee and make-up.  It’s so much easier to dump artifical nerves and spackle on skin tone cover up to dimish the impact of exhaustion.

The key to recognizing and beating the crap out of passive voice is not to add -ing to every verb in your sentence, but to make your sentences do something.  For example, in Shadow’s Edge (deal with folks, it’s my first book and this is where all the really good lessons are coming from!) my editors kindly pointed out this particular sentence was way too passive:

Natasha’s look was unfriendly.

The best way to smack that line into submission and make it do something:

Natasha threw her an unfriendly look.

Can you hear the difference?  The first draft is almost eerily (No,E,  I’m not calling you home from the Werewolf Monastary! By the way, bring me back some Blood Red!) to close to telling versus showing.  See how well all these little pointers merge together!

Here’s another example (yep, from Shadow’s Edge):

Gavin and Talbot continued talking for couple of minutes.  Then Talbot was shaking Gavin’s hand and saying good night to Raine.

A few tweaks and viola! New and improved:

Gavin and Talbot continued talking for a couple of minutes.  Then Talbot shook Gavin’s hand and said good night to Raine.

See how it moves your scene, makes it more “real”?  Using the word “was” means you’ve begun to travel down that passive trail and meander into some boring territory. Spice it up, people. Kick it around, make it scream for your readers. 

So remember, when your writing starts to chicken out, put it in a cage fight and knock “was” out of the ring.  Trust me, you’re readers will love you for it!

–Wicked

Let me show you what I mean…

I promised to share the agony of editing with you, so sit down, strap in and hang on.  We’re now heading into the treacherous world of show-don’t-tell. You all know this pit of despairing darkness, it’s the one where someone reads your work then says, “Why are you telling me this, why can’t you just show me?”  Every writer faces this harsh enemy armed only with a small writing instrument and sheer guts.  Some carry a broader defense in the form of a laptop, but still the enemy is fierce and determined to leave you shuddering in its wake. 

There are thousands (seriously google it) of articles out there on how to work through the challenges of showing versus telling, but I’m an orbitally fixated person (see previous blog) so I’m just going to share an example of enlightment that was seared into my brain.

Here’s the original:

Raine moved like lightening to catch the little black remote before it hit the ground. Eden gave a frustrated shriek and went after Ryder’s face with her long nails, scoring three long scratches before her could stop her.

 Ryder cursed, yanking the doctor’s arms behind her back, forcing her to face forward.  Raine didn’t spare Eden a glance, but moved in to the cell. She could feel Cheveyo coming up behind her. Using her magic, Raine called up a small illuminating ball of light to chase back the darkness from the cell.

Huddled in the corner was a naked Gavin. Fresh cuts, seeping burns, and trickles of blood mixed with sweat-drenched, tangled hair made macabre abstracts over the shaking arms, wrapped around drawn up legs.

The enlightened minds of my editors pointed out the following issues with this small passage. For example in the very first line, saying she moved like lightening is telling, not showing.  Then on to the usage of verbs. Picking the right verb makes a world of difference. Action scenes demand strong verbs, use them but don’t -ing them (will face this little critter in the next blog).  With the light of knowledge searing my brain, here is the re-write:

Raine sprang forward and caught the little black remote before it hit the ground. Eden shrieked and  raked Ryder’s face with her long nails, scoring three long gashes before he could stop her.

He cursed and yanked her  arms behind her back, forcing her to face forward. Without sparing her a glance, Raine dashed into the cell with Cheveyo right behind her. She summoned a small ball of light to chase back the darkness from the cell.

Gavin was huddled in the corner, naked. Fresh cuts, seeping burns, and trickles of blood, mixed with sweat-drenched, tangled hair threw macabre abstracts over his shaking arms, which were wrapped around his drawn-up legs.

See how much better that reads? Plus it paints a more vivid picture of what’s happening for the reader.  This is the beauty of showing versus telling. It’s worth every drop of blood you sweat as you transfer those voices in your head to paper. 

So next week, I’ll move on to passive versus active.  Oh ye old English lessons. Dust them off, it’s time to go back to school!

Wicked

There is more to the world than meets the eye

Alright, I have survived three rounds of edits by three wonderfully sharp individuals for my first book Shadow’s Edge.  We are getting nearer and nearer to that terribly exciting moment of both nerves, joy and fear known as “the release date”.   Now that my editing vision has been seared by the light, what have I learned?

First, I am orbitally fixated.  Let me offer a translation.  I’m a pretty visual person.  When I write, my story is like a movie in my head most times.  I can stop the film, back it up, tweak it, and play again until it’s just the way I want it.  Unfortunately this means that I will use a great deal of visual detail in my book.  I never realized until it was pointed out to me, just how much I relied on looks to get emotions across.  The first strong advice I was given: Vary your emotional clues, there is more to a person’s reactions than their eyes.  Go out, people watch and make a list of body reactions which will clue a reader into a person’s emotional state.

So, being the dutiful writer I am, I headed my wise editor’s advice and took the day off to people watch. The sacrifices one has to make for art, I’m telling you, it’s horrific.  I found a table, plugged in my headphones to add the appropriate soundtrack and armed with pen and paper, began to document my experiences.  You know what? She was absolutely right, you can get emotion across with involving your eyes.

We have five (six if you think outside the box) senses: smell, hearing, vision, taste, touch (and intuitive). When I write I find myself sticking to one sort of sense, the changing of tones in people’s voices, using only their eyes to express themselves, etc. and forgetting there’s more to life than what meets the eye.  It’s the whole sensory experience that helps created mood, setting and draw you into a character’s life until it’s more interesting than the real world.

Here’s a re-write example.

The original was:

She could smell the metallic stink of fear rising from Eden, and she reveled in the dark joy killing this human would bring her. The whimpers escaping from Eden’s bloodless lips added a savage spark of satisfaction to Raine’s soul. She made quick work of the remaining two restraints.

With the doctor strapped to the table, Raine looked around the room. Spotting a number of syringes, loaded with some clear liquid, lying in the cooling unit and brought a small vicious smile to her face. 

While the table’s frightened occupant watched her every move, she walked around and took  one of the syringes out of the unit. She was sure her eyes were glowing with predatory delight as Eden’s breath noticeably  hitched.

 “Now what could this little syringe hold that scares you so much?” Raine’s voice was a purr of malice as she dragged a small backless chair over to Eden’s left side.

Sitting down, she noted Eden’s eyes never left the syringe in her hand. Making sure to keep the small instrument in clear view, she kept her voice calm and even. “Where shall we start, hmm?” She tapped the syringe lightly against her other palm.

The edited version:

She could smell the metallic stink of fear radiating from Eden, and she reveled in the satisfaction   killing this human would bring her. The whimpers escaping from Eden’s bloodless lips added a savage spark of glee to Raine’s soul as she made quick work of the remaining two restraints.

With Eden strapped to the table, Raine looked around the room. She spotted a number of syringes, loaded with some clear liquid, lying in the cooling unit and smiled viciously. 

While Eden’s terrified eyes followed her every move, Raine strode over and grabbed one of the syringes out of the unit. She knew her eyes glowed with predatory delight when Eden’s breath hitched.

Raine dragged a small, backless chair over to Eden’s left side. “Now what could this little syringe hold that scares you so much?” she asked, her voice a purr of malice .

Eden’s eyes never left the syringe.

Making sure to hold the small instrument in clear view, Raine kept her voice calm and even. “Where shall we start? Hmm?” She tapped the syringe lightly against her palm.

See how much better the edited version turned out? Change a few description and tenses and viola! Your readers are hooked.  And this is why editors rock, because they can see your words and shift them just that little bit to make them dazzle the reader’s eye. (Orbitally challenged! I already explained that!)

So for the next few blogs, I thought I’d be nice and share my growing pains with you, because what good is learning lessons if you can’t share the simplistic brilliance with others?

So next week we’ll fall into the debilitating pit of despair writers call “Show versus Tell”.

Until then…

Wicked

Back to Troll Mountain

Welcome my friends, once again we are not at home.  No sooner did Mischievous and I arrive back at our beloved Swamp, when we find ourselves off again with most of the dwarves in tow.  It appears that while Mischievous and I were running for our lives the rest of the crew decided they wanted a little adventure too.  So, Snarky, Wicked, Smokey, Quirky, and all of our muses are headed out to commune with the writing Gods.  We are going to seek out those sneaky adverbs and adjectives where they hide and eradicate them.  Smash sentence fragments and put those commas in their place.  Envious aren’t you.  Maybe you didn’t know that writing could be so much fun.  So as I look out over the troll ravaged mountain the  I can see the trolls pacing around below us.  The muses already told them, if they want to see a real can of whoop ass, just come on by.  Thus far they’ve elected to leaves us to write in peace.

This weeks topic is about excess words.  Here are some pearls that are loosely tossed about in writing circles.  ”Write Tight,” William Brohaugh; “Omit needless words, and Vigorous writing is concise,” Strunk and White;  ”Superfluous words and phrases soften prose,” Sol Stein.

All of these phases have been lifted from chapters dealing with adverbs and adjectives.  ”Adjectives and adverbs often weaken their subjects,” Noel Lukeman.  Of course killing off every modifier in your prose is not the answer to tight, concise, sharp, focused writing either. As in the example set in the last sentence, more is less.  Here I need to select the strongest and most appropriate adverb.  One is sufficient.  Concise seems to be the easy winner here as it describes the style desired.  By the same measure eliminating all the adverbs ruins the meaning of the sentence.  So the lesson here is some modifiers are good, too many are bad.  The decision is solely the authors as to which ones to keep.  Mr. Lukeman suggests that we start with a single page and remove all of the adverbs, and read it through once.  How does that flow?  Will a stronger verb do a better job than adding an adverb to bolster it.  He then suggests, where we are sure we still need an adverb we use one that is unique and stay away from the over used or clichéd adverbs.  Such as sparkling eyes.  If the eyes in question sparkle or not is not at issue.  What is at issue here is that the phrase has been over used and like dialogue tags it will get skipped over while your reader registers a moment of boredom.

If your work is fraught with similar phrases your reader may decide they’ve read this before and set it down.  The job of a writer is to tell a tale with unique characters and a fresh turn of phrase.  Every sentence is not going to contain these pearls, but neither should all your sentences contain recycled phrases.  In order to give your characters a distinct voice they will need some dialogue quirks, that’s what  I to call them.  Phases that are uniquely theirs so that the reader doesn’t need a tag to know who’s speaking.

So this is my goal for the coming weekend of writing in the mountains.  It is what all wordsmiths aim for.  And so as miscellaneous body parts drift down the river in front of our cabin from the last zombie attack.  I throw myself on the mercy of the writing gods in hopes they will show me favor.  I leave you with these words from a writer known for his concise style.

“For a long time now I have tried simply to write the best I can.  Sometimes I have good luck and write better than I can.”  Ernest Hemingway

Write On,

Eerie

But you’re published now

I’ve heard from a few writers and a few non-writers recently the above phrase. I’ll be talking about my writer’s group, the 7ED and how I have such and such project in for their critique.

I get a look of wide-eyed disbelief, then the comment, “But you’re published now. Why do you still need a critique group?”

And all I can do is laugh. Yes. I’m published now (with my very own editor, now 2

But that doesn’t mean all of a sudden I transformed into the most awesome, perfect writer ever born. HA!

I need them now more than ever. Talk to most published authors, and they’ll tell you how badly they still need their critique and writers groups. Because even published writers make mistakes. Huge glaring ones. And sometimes, we even forget to write a plot into a short story

I wouldn’t be here without my great, wonderful and totally awesome group.

And I wouldn’t last long in the publishing world without going to the 7ED first with everything I write so they can rip it to shreds. And I love that. Because it makes me a better storyteller and a better writer.

Love to all of them.

~ Amber aka Snarky