Five Easy Edits
Here are five easy edits to help condense your prose and make it sing. At the end is a bonus poem.- No time at all: avoid unnecessary time elements such as began and before.
- No: “If I may,” he began, before pulling off his jacket and stomping into the foul-smelling bathroom.
- YES: “If I may,” he said, then pulled off his jacket and stomped into the foul-smelling bathroom
- Reduce, reduce, reduce: Find simpler ways to say things to add impact.
- NO: They took it out of their pocket.
- YES: They took it from their pocket.
- NO: She got off of her immediately, horrified by her ridiculous behavior.
- YES: She got off her immediately, horrified by her ridiculous behavior.
- NO: “Do you mind?” he asked, standing next to her, holding a drooling puppy.
- YES: “Do you mind?” he asked, standing beside her, holding a drooling puppy.
- Who is it? When do I use nobody and no one? Nobody is for casual usage, such as in dialog; no one is for literature. Be consistent.
- NO: No body truly understood how angry she was from his near constant belittling.
- YES: No one truly understood how angry she was from his near constant belittling.
- NO: “No one wants to see what she looks like in the light of day,” he sneered. “Better in a dim bar, with a few drinks under your belt.”
- YES: “Nobody wants to see what she looks like in the light of day,” he sneered. “Better in a dim bar, with a few drinks under your belt.”
- Don’t start, just do: Don’t have your characters begin to do something, just have them do it. And don’t let things “come to mind.” The reader is already viewing things from the character’s perspective. You can, however, use start as a first step.
- NO: Things changed between them, and it was time he started thinking of his own needs. With that in mind, he began to build a small wooden boat that slipped though the waves.
- YES: Things changed between them; it was time to think of his own needs. To start, he built a small wooden boat that would slip though the waves.
- Time of day. Use a.m. and p.m. correctly. (Yay! I just did!)
Aftermath
- In death’s aftermath I weep, as moment-to-moment, my loss screams its fresh, raw wound.
- To bear witness to a beloved’s end game has been an honor. Saying what needed to be said, hearing that last breath. Walking away was hard.
- Everywhere I turn, I see that kind face, feel that gentle hand, hear that beloved voice. They are in me still, and with me, every breath I take.
- Weeks pass, then months as I yet flounder, asking why–my naïve question a needle poised against the balloon of hope. They are gone.
- The empty room echoes, no voice answering, as I turn to share an event, a conversation. I am alone.
- “How are you doing?” people ask, wanting me to feel better, to have recovered. “Fine,” I say and smile. There is no recovery.
- More months pass, then a year, as the sprout of life peeks up though grief’s moist soil. My tears lessen. I yearn for more.
- Time passes as the sun rises and sets and the wind picks up, foretelling rain. The hurt lessens, though memories sting. Love is worth the price.
- I leap from my newly built life, needing to move on. I am still alive.