Boring Details

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editing, editing tips, Self-editing, Show Don't Tell, writers, writing, Writing Advice, writing tips

I’ve written about this before, as have many of you writers.

When you write a manuscript for a novel, short story, poem, or whatever, you look at your words with a critical (aka incredibly harsh) eye.

Do the words say what you mean to say?

Do the words move the story along?

Are the words worthy of a reader’s time?

Are the words complete and utter drivel?

As a result of such scrutiny of my own words, I inadvertently do the same review of the words in the books I read. It has rather spoiled the pleasure of a quiet afternoon with a book (or Kindle) on my lap.

Let me give you an example of what I mean. I am reading a book with an interesting storyline, good character development, and moves along nicely. Except, and this is a big except, the author spends way too much time and ink on mundane details.

We find ourselves with our protagonist at a pivotal moment in her life. Her husband cheated on her and she learned that the man she knows as her father might not be her father. She needs to clear her head and think about the implications of these revelations. The author writes of the momentous moment as such:

“I pulled into the parking lot of Glacier Point, put the car in park, turned off the ignition, took off my seatbelt, opened the door, and walked to look at the view. I felt more calm with Half Dome before me.”

Really? Your husband cheated on you and I should care that you parked your car and took off your seatbelt? Honey, what you need is a shot of Jack Daniels.

Being the editor in my head that I am, I said to myself, “So, smarty pants, since you think you are God’s gift to writing, how would you capture the moment?”

So on a lark (you know how we writers love to write on a lark), I took a stab at capturing what the woman was feeling in the face of devastating news.

“My troubled heart longed for the peace that can be found while gazing upon serenity of Yosemite Valley. I went to Glacier Point and uncorked my bottle of wine as I walked to the edge of the cliff. Without having to mediate, a blanket of calm came over me. God’s church was before me and with that, I could begin to breathe again. Faltering breaths, but they were deeper than any I had taken in days.”

Maybe not Nobel Prize winning prose, but I would say it is better than a description of how to park a car. It is the whole “show don’t tell” thing.

If you write about someone brushing their teeth because they threw up after a drinking binge, you don’t need to tell your reader that they took the cap off the tube of toothpaste, wet the toothbrush, put toothpaste on the toothbrush, brushed their teeth, spit the foam into the sink, and then dried off their mouth.

Maybe you should write:

“With three too many martinis under my belt and an unfortunate encounter with Julio, my head felt like lead and my teeth were wearing wool sweaters. After an intimate moment with my toilet while on my knees, I turned on the bathroom light. It seared my eyes like the searchlights at Alcatraz. When I groped for my toothbrush, every prescription bottle in my medicine cabinet flew like hail over my bathroom floor. I really needed to stop drinking and dump Julio, or whatever his name is.”

The point here is if your character drank too much on an evening out, we don’t need to know the color of her toothbrush. We need to know the color of Julio’s eyes. Use your words to tell us the juicy bits.

Is it just me, or do you want to know more about this Julio dude?

That is a view that can help calm a destroyed heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two Pictures Paint a Thousand Words

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A picture is worth a thousand words, A picture paints a thousand words, Imagery, Show Don't Tell, writers, writing

You have heard the expression, “A picture paints a thousand words.” Here is a perfect example of how that holds true.

Here are three portraits of three sisters captured in two frames. The photos below were taken three years apart. The story is clear. And sad.

http://www.blameitonthevoices.com/2010/04/time-passing.html

http://www.blameitonthevoices.com/2010/04/time-passing.html

A Visual Way To Think About “Show, Don’t Tell”

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Abbey Road, George Harrison, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, Show Don't Tell, The Beatles, writers, writing

“Show, don’t tell.” You’ve heard it a million times.

You strive for it, sometimes achieve it, and if you are like me, most of the time wonder what all this showing-not-telling means.

This picture of the Beatles immediately before the photo shoot for the Abbey Road album cover is poignant. It “shows” the bond between two members of the band. Maybe Paul is teasing Ringo, or maybe he is adjusting his collar, but the photo captures an intimate moment.

An article accompanying the photo could read, “The Beatles were a tight-knit band.” Or, a writer could say, “Paul sensed Ringo’s anxiety and whispered a joke to lighten the moment.” The first sentence “tells” about the band’s relationship and the second “shows” us they cared about each other.

Another thing I love about this photo is that Paul is wearing sandals. Did he kick them off just before crossing Abbey Road? Also, what do you suppose the lady was saying to them? Get a haircut? I have all your albums? Don’t even THINK about breaking up?

P.S. Some feel the word “iconic” is overused and therefore diluted its meaning. I don’t believe that is the case when using it to describe the Abbey Road photo.

Rules Are Meant to be Broken

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Avoid Stage Direction, Douglas Adams, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Show Don't Tell, writers, writing, Writing Rules

You have heard ad nauseum these two cardinal rules of writing:

“Show Don’t Tell”

and

“Avoid Stage Direction”

“Cookies,” from Douglas Adams’ The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time is a brilliant example of how you can BREAK THE RULES and still write a charming story. Read the text below or watch the video and be read to.

This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong.

I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.

I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind.

Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.

It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.

Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.

You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?

In the end I thought, nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.

Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice . . .” I mean, it doesn’t really work.

We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.

Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.

The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line.

Self-Editing Out The Clutter

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adverbs, Pat Holt, Self-editing, Show Don't Tell, writers, writing, Writing Mistakes, writing tips

I’ve read everything I can get my hands on about self-editing. I think of self-editing as getting rid of the clutter – housekeeping if you will. When the writing is tidy, the story shines through, unburdened by extra words and empty adverbs.

I “Stumbled-Upon” this helpful post from the blog “Holt Uncensored.” The post is from 2009 but warrants another look.

Ten Mistakes Writers Don’t See (But Can Easily Fix When they Do)

Ms. Holt gives us a list of ten mistakes writers make but don’t see. Many of the “mistakes” and “tips” on how to fix them are things we have all seen before, such as avoid adverbs at almost all costs and the ubiquitous “show don’t tell.” However, the guidance she gives is different and precise. Ms. Holt’s post spurred me to look at my novel again and I spent most of yesterday clearing away clutter with a fresh eye.

I’ll leave you with this . . . imagine editing your writing before computers. Making revisions on a typewriters must have been a pain.