Just Put that "Put" Down!

I'm in the process of slowly editing my new literary horror novel, The Dance of Rotten Sticks. Some early readers are getting back to me with comments, so I find myself fleshing out weak spots, but also doing some heaving line/word editing.

In previous posts, I've talked about how using the FIND function in Word can really streamline editing, especially when looking for a certain problematic word.

One lazy word I've noticed in my writing is the word "put." You know, like, "He put his glasses on." As a verb, "put" is pretty nondescript and, in a poetry writing course I took in college, I remember learning that the verb is your strongest type of word. 

I think in early drafts, I favor the word "put"... but I've come to see it as a placeholder word. I want to see if I can use the FIND function to do some "put"-replacements. I'm finding that if my characters are using "put" in dialogue, I leave it alone because I think it's a word we use a lot while speaking. But, I'm trying to cull it from my narration.

I do think while reading through our manuscripts, we can be forgiving or even unaware of those lazy words. Something about singling them out and looking for them specifically helps an author get focused.

Let's see what I find.

At one point I wrote:

    He put the cup to his lips.

I changed that to:

    He raised the cup to his lips.

Simple change, but stronger visually and a more accurate description of the action.

The nice thing about the FIND function is that it will find words like "putting" too.

One of my sentences started:

    Putting more ice in his glass,

I changed that to:

    Dropping more ice in his glass,

I don't know... I just see the "dropping" better than I see "putting"... which is just a vague verb.

Another instance:

    Isaac put an arm around each child...

Change to:

    Isaac looped an arm around each child...

Sometimes the changes I'm making are just to avoid repetition. In one instance, I wrote:

    He put his hands on his hips...

I changed that to:

    He set his hands on his hips...

Not a huge difference between "put" and "set" but I am seeing that I overuse "put" for those little moments. That could easily be overwritten to:

    He fixed his fingers and palms against his hips...

That to me feels overwritten, as though he's not doing something fairly mundane. The overwriting calls too much attention to this everyday action. But I do like "set"... at least for changing things up.

This next one feels like a good one for changing and getting the verb more specific.

    He put his hand down to her until she took it. 

I changed that to:

    He lowered his hand to her until she took it.

I see the "lowering" much better than I see the vague "putting," Plus, I can get rid of the word "down" since you can't really lower anything "up."

And another:

    She put her face in her hands. 

In this instance, my character is upset and sobbing, so I changed it to:

    She dropped her face into her hands. 

Incidentally, I liked the sound of "into" over "in."

I won't share all of them, but this next one was interesting:

    Moments later, they sat on the opposite bank putting their clothes over their wet legs.

I changed that to:

    Moments later, they sat on the opposite bank tugging their pants up over their wet legs.

This had a number of changes. First, "pants" is more specific than "clothes." I had originally changed "putting" to "pulling," which is better, but I still didn't think pulling emphasized the action of trying to get jeans on over wet legs. I thought on it until the word "tugging" came to me.

Holy cow, do I abuse "put"!

Just found this:

    She stood up from the table and put her hand on Emily’s shoulder.

Changed to:

    She stood up from the table and touched her hand to Emily’s shoulder.

These might seem minor or fussy, but I really think it's the kind of changes that make the prose more visceral.

One more:

    She stood up and put her arms around Carson. “Okay, Carson. It’s okay. Just let Dad—”

More accurate for that moment:

    She stood up and hugged her arms around Carson. “Okay, Carson. It’s okay. Just let Dad—”

Okay, you might be thinking that all of these changes are very fussy, but it truly is the difference between crisp prose and lazy prose. I certainly did not change every "put" in the manuscript. That shouldn't be the goal. But the changes I did make, I believe, made the overall manuscript a touch better.

I wonder what you'll FIND when you search your manuscript for "put."

If you find my blog posts instructive or illuminating, please consider purchasing a copy of my new book of short stories, The Neighborhood Division.

From the Publisher (preferred): here

From Amazon: here

Book Trailer: here

A Small Press Offered to Publish My Book. I Turned Them Down.

This morning I sent an email to a small press publisher. They had accepted my novel manuscript, Falling Sky, a dystopian novel that I wrote during the first six weeks of quarantine back in the spring. In short, my email said, “I don’t think we are a right fit. I am going to have to decline your offer for publication.”

The story of how I came to this decision isn’t about running down the press. I have every reason to believe that they are legit, so I’m not going to name them. They have their approach to publishing authors, and it seems to work for them. It’s just not for me, and I think it’s important for writers to listen to their gut reaction… even if that means turning down an offer for publication.

I just want to write a little bit here, maybe for ultimate closure, why I came to this decision and what the red flags were for me.

When I started the process of seeking a publisher, I started with agents. After 60 or so, I didn’t have one request to see the entire manuscript. That didn’t surprise me. I think I might forever be a small press guy, and that’s fine.

So then, I started the process of submitting to small presses. I’ve had a handful of rejections from a few small presses, but I have about 15 that I haven’t heard back from.

Then, in September, I had an acceptance for publication (from the press I allude to above). When I checked my records, I noticed that I’d only sent them the first chapter. They also sent me a questionnaire regarding my feelings about their editorial process. Basically, through their questionnaire, it sounded like I was giving up most editorial control (“We might even ask you to cut entire chapters or subplots. Are you okay with that?”). The questionnaire also made it clear that I would have very little input on the cover.

I followed up with the press to say I was excited that my first chapter was so intriguing that they wanted to offer me publication… sight unseen basically. I also said that this made me uncomfortable, especially given their editorial approach. The editor assured me that they needed that kind of strong wording in the questionnaire because of difficult authors they’d worked with in the past (and that I don’t doubt. Authors can be a pain in the ass, I’m sure.) He said the actual process involves much more give and take (though that’s not the case with covers).

I followed up by saying that regardless, I would be much more comfortable if they read the entire manuscript. I sold it as an olly olly oxen free for both of us. After all, they might read it and say, “Ooh, this isn’t what we hoped it would be.”

Thankfully, the editor agreed to reading the entire manuscript.

Fast forward five weeks. I heard back from them. They’d read the entire manuscript, and they still wanted to publish. That was soon followed by an email containing a contract.

One red flag for me was that I never got truly excited over either email acceptance.

Let me be clear… nowhere in the contract did it say anything about me assuming some of the publishing costs or paying for any kind of services. Like I said, the press is legit, just not for me.

For a small press, the contract was pretty standard. No huge red flags. They did have one caveat about if, after the editing process began, I decided to pull out, I would owe the press $250 for editing services. That kind of makes sense. After all, an author could take the highly edited (and most likely improved manuscript) and then approach a bigger press. I understand their need to cover their work input (and the editor did tell me that they did have a number of authors do just that to them… get their book edited, and then pulled it. So, yeah, authors can be shitty people, like anyone.)

I did have to follow up with the publisher to ask about some missing information. I saw nothing in the contract about payment. There was language about royalties. (I would get 35% of net sales on print and 50% of net sales on ebooks). Fairly standard (maybe a touch low on print?) But, as far as anything right out of the gate, there was nothing about any kind of payment (by which I simply mean complimentary copies of the book). I also wanted to know about any discounts to the author if he (me) should want to purchase copies from the press to sell face-to-face to friends, family, and at readings/book signings.

The publisher followed up with me 48 hours later (This was an issue for me, too… there was always a substantial lag time between my sent emails and their responses). In the response, he said that the author usually gets 5 to 10 complimentary copies (which is fairly standard). But, for me at least… why “usually”? why “5 to 10”? and why isn’t any of this spelled out in the contract?

As to the question about the author purchasing discounted author copies, I was told that it would depend on the price of the book, but copies were usually $3 to $5 less for the author than the cover price.

But, why again “usually”? And, why not just spell out a percentage? Then the cover price doesn’t matter. Most small presses offer discounted author copies at 40% off the cover price. Why not just stipulate that in the contract? Honestly, most of my “profits” from a small press book come from my ability to purchase discounted copies and to sell them at readings/signings. 

Just as an example, my most recent royalty check (after a year’s worth of sales for my novel Detroit Muscle) came to just over $35. I was happy to cash the check. But, that amount was tiny compared to what I was able to make selling copies at book signings, etc.

Working through a small press, the author discount on additional copies is a big deal. I just feel that should be spelled out explicitly in the contract, and it wasn’t.

Finally, because I had ordered one of their books from their catalog, I was able to see the quality of their work. The structural quality was great. Nice spine. Solid book. The cover art/design, though? Absolutely not for me. And, looking through their catalog… well, I just couldn’t jive with their overall cover aesthetic. As an author with a book out from a small press, just like with most other arrangements, a great deal of marketing falls on the author. I couldn’t imagine myself trying to market a book with a cover that I wasn’t excited about. The inside was no better. I felt the font was way too small. It looked like an effort to cram a large book into fewer pages… at the expense of the reader’s pleasure. (Another good reason, besides supporting small presses, to purchase a copy from their catalog while submitting.)

They have their aesthetic, and that’s fine… but, at fifty years old with more than half a dozen books out from small presses, I knew their aesthetic wasn’t for me.

I am absolutely stoked about the cover that Whistling Shade Press designed for my recently released short story collection, The Neighborhood Division. And, that cover came about through a healthy back and forth between the publisher and myself. I was heavily involved in the process, and Joel, Whistling Shade’s main dude, wasn’t going to move forward until I was excited about the cover.

That’s the kind of arrangement I want with a small press publisher.

So, with multiple red flags waving in my face, and a gut feeling of “signing that contract would be a mistake”… I sent my email of decline this morning.

What am I feeling right now, two hours later? 

Relief.

I am sitting here typing this with little feeling of regret. A younger version of myself probably would have proceeded because “It’s an offer of publication!” But, as they say, this isn’t my first rodeo.

Authors need to learn to trust their gut instincts. They need to forecast that the upcoming arrangement (be it through a large press, small press, or even through self-publishing) will be right for them. I did the tough forecasting, and it just wasn’t for me.

So, now, I wait for the other presses to get back to me. Maybe they will all be rejections. That’s fine. I still don’t see myself regretting this decision. I’d rather not have publication than have a book that I can’t get behind.

In previous posts, I’ve stated the various reasons that I won’t self-publish. If Falling Sky doesn’t get accepted somewhere that gets me excited… oh well.

If you find my blog posts instructive or illuminating, please consider purchasing a copy of my new book of short stories, The Neighborhood Division.

From the Publisher (preferred): here

From Amazon: here

Book Trailer: here

Book Review: Meredith Alling's Sing the Song

My book reviews tend to be a little unorthodox. I used to write book reviews for some various venues over the years. It wasn't super satisfying work... as much as I enjoyed the idea of making people aware of a really good book. The displeasure came from working with editors who had a very specific idea of what a book review should be. It was tedious going back and forth (but maybe I just wasn't a very good book reviewer, I don't know). It just felt like the review had to go through so many damn rounds of rewrites.

It turned me off from writing book reviews to be honest.

But now, with an active blog... well, I'm the editor, and I write the reviews any damn way I want.

Yes, I'm feeling sassy today.

About a month ago, I finished Meredith Alling's book of flash fiction entitled Sing the Song.

The short review? If you're curious about flash fiction, how it functions, and what it should do... well, you should buy this book. Alling is a master of the craft. Much could be learned. Of course, you won't necessarily end up being Alling. You can't. You shouldn't. You're you. You'll write flash fiction pieces inspired by your own ideas.

Sing the Song is more than simply a study guide for how flash fiction should function. Alling brings a unique aesthetic as to the kinds of topics flash fiction (or any fiction) can tackle. As Kathy Fish remarks in her blurb for the book, "Meredith Alling made the world look different for a time. Sharper, funnier, and alive. All by the power of these stories." I can't say it better than that... or in any way that emphasizes any better the veracity of Fish's words. Fish is a master fiction writer too, so it doesn't surprise me that she writes a helluva blurb.

(Now see, a book review editor would say, "You can't just crib Fish's words. That's lazy. You should say something. Maybe you could say the prose is "gorgeous" or "breathtaking" or it "sparkles." To which I would say, "Fuck you, book review editor, if I use those words, I'm just cribbing every other book reviewer who uses those throw away, hyperbolized words in lieu of saying something meaningful.")

So, you want that? You want a world that looks different for a time? Is sharper? Is funnier? Is alive? (you know, like Kathy Fish says?) Then buy this book... you really should.

Okay, so I can hear that inner book review editor saying, "And you gotta get some quotes in there from the book."

That I agree with, but don't tell me what to do. I was going to do that without you, inner book review editor. Go work on your relationship with your estranged father or whatever made you such a know-it-all asshole.

Sing the Song comes out of the gate hard... like just swinging for the fences with the flash story, "Other Babies." It uses an approach that I've seen before in flash fiction (a story that amounts to a list), but it's doing it in a way that makes the world look different. ("Hey, you're cribbing Kathy Fish again!" I clear my throat, "Well, hey, inner book review editor, go back and reread my profanity from above. Here's a hint, it rhymes with Luck Too."

So, "Other Babies" is this list about babies... different kinds of babies. Other babies. It's pretty damn wild and creative and exhibits gorgeous prose (damn it, I did it.)

Here's an excerpt:

"Other babies have four television screens positioned around their heads for total saturation. The outside world ceases to exist. These babies make friends with the pink cat. They think of stumps as seats. They aren't curious about anything. They don't ask any questions at all. Other babies are leaf dwellers. They prefer the dirt and they cocoon themselves in the leaves. They bite a breathing hole through their leaf wrap. The darkness is welcome; no eye holes. Their bodies turn cold and tight, and then they bloom. Other babies hang on rear windshield wipers until a member of a driving family says, 'There's a baby back there, on the wipers.' They pull over and pry the baby's fingers from the wipers; a surprisingly tight grip. Then they brush the flies and grime from its body and decide to love it. Other babies can smell when meat is perfectly cooked. They let out a violent bark, like a seizure-sensing dog sensing a seizure. Ready the fork and the spoon. These babies end up kitchen companions, propped on the counter, maybe strapped to a cupboard with a bungee cord."

("Ok, that quote is just too long," the inner book review editor says. "Hey, inner book review editor... again, see the F.U. above)

Here's what I'm saying... read that passage above again. Think of the mind at work behind that story, behind those sentences. That mind, with the prose power to match, wrote a book with 26 other flash fiction stories in it. I think you should want that. That's kind of the end of my review and, in short, I'm saying buy this book, read this book, celebrate small presses and flash fiction through your purchase of this book.

Buy it directly through the press: here

Or you can go to Amazonopoly... whatever it takes.

How did I come across this book? Well, as I've mentioned in previous posts, when I submit a manuscript to a small press, I usually buy a book from their catalog. To feather my nest and improve my chances? Not really (maybe a little)... but no, to support them in the way I'm asking, through my submission, for them to maybe support me.

Did the Future Tense editors like my book? No, they didn't. They sent it back to me via other babies... carrier pigeon babies that ate the pages of my manuscript and then shit them all over the roof of my house, rectangular blotches of baby shit the color of bird shit all over my shingles that won't come off even with the strongest cleaner that the one-armed woman at Tractor Supply Company told me to buy.

So, that's to say, this is a completely unbiased review. If I were a different person (had I been born some other baby, like say a Vindictive Baby, I could have purposely, but inaccurately, wrote a terrible review out of some petty vengeance.)

That's silly though. If you're going to send your work out for publication, you grow thick skin. You shrug off the rejections just like you take the acceptances with a grain of salt.

Alling wrote a great book. Future Tense chose, wisely, to publish it.

And, I'm saying, without bias or benefit to me that you should get your hands on a copy.

If you find my book reviews enlightening or illuminating, please consider purchasing a copy of my new book of short stories, The Neighborhood Division. (along with getting the damn book I just reviewed).

From the Publisher (preferred): here

From Amazon: here

Book Trailer: here

The Trouble with "I" in First Person Narratives

In response to my recent blog post on cutting "to be" constructions from your writing, somebody mentioned needing help with the preponderance of the word "I" in their first person narrative.

Obviously, in a first person narrative, the word "I" is going to make some appearances. But, with some creativity, those appearances can be trimmed way back. It just takes some concentrated effort. After all, did you know there was an author who wrote a 50k-word novel that did not contain the letter "e"?

More about that: here

Culling the word "I" should likely not be your goal while writing your first draft. Your goal in writing your first draft should always simply be finishing a first draft, warts and all. The exercise I'm proposing might even more likely be a third or fourth draft effort.

With some creativity, the "I" word can be trimmed way back. I wrote a passage as an example and then included a rewrite. The first passage contains the word "I" thirty-one (31) times. The second passage only contains the word twice. And, I would argue, even with maybe a few clunky moments, the second passage reads much better. I hope it helps you see where you can get creative with your own expunging of "I"... and likely improve your prose as a result.

First Attempt at Passage:

    I approached the partially open door of my apartment. I knew that the only other person with a key was my mother. I didn’t think she had any reason to be here after midnight. I opened the door slowly and stepped inside. I heard the familiar dripping of the kitchen faucet with the bad gasket. I could see it was dark except for a light coming from the back bedroom. I closed the door quietly behind me. I started my way across the living room floor, tiptoeing. I could feel my heart inside my chest like something feral trying to get out. I was sweating, and I dragged a sleeve across my forehead. I heard a loud creak come from a floorboard under the oriental rug. I stopped and listened. I couldn’t hear anybody stirring in the bedroom. I wondered if I had just left the light on. I didn’t know if maybe I hadn’t latched the front door when I closed it leaving that morning. Then, briefly, I heard the bed springs as somebody adjusted themselves in my bed. I heard my heartbeat in my ears as I approached the lit doorway. I set my palms on either side of the doorframe, and I looked into the room. I recognized the red hair fanned over one of my pillows. I knew it was Sheila, an ex of mine from five years ago. She was wearing a black teddy, and I could see she was asleep. I turned around and went back to the kitchen. I filled a mixing bowl with water as quietly as I could. I knew a watery wakeup would douse any kind of fire she was planning to start.

Second Attempt at Passage:

    The door to my apartment hung slightly ajar. My mother was the only other person with a key. She didn’t have any reason to be here after midnight. The door whispered the rest of the way open against the gentle urging of my palm. The only sound in the place came from the kitchen sink’s dripping faucet. The super still hadn’t responded to my requests for a new gasket. Only one light glowed in the dark space coming through the doorway to the back bedroom. The door closed quietly behind me, my hand on the knob slowly easing the strike latch into the strike plate. My tiptoeing across the living room floor gave nothing away until a floorboard beneath the oriental rug creaked under my footfall. My heart, like a feral animal, seemed like it wanted out of my chest. Dragging a sleeve across my forehead, I mopped the sweat from my dripping brow. The back bedroom remained quiet. Had it just been me that left a light on this morning in my haste, going so far as to not hear the front door properly latching shut? The groaning bedsprings from my mattress answered the question. My heart beating in my ears soundtracked my approach to the lit doorway. Resting my palms against the doorframe, I peered into the room. Wearing a black teddy, Sheila, an ex of mine from five years ago, lay asleep in my bed, her mane of red hair fanned over the pillow. My retreat back to the kitchen was soundless. Perched in my hands, the mixing bowl filled slowly with water from the faucet. A watery wakeup would douse any kind of fire she was trying to start.

On your own, you can analyze what I did to make those changes. In most cases, I am making something else be the subject of the sentence rather than having the narrator be the subject. I hope it gives you some insight into how you might trim the word "I" from your first person narrative. If someone can write an entire novel without the letter "e" then surely you can trim the word "I" from your work, at least by half.

If you find my blog posts instructive or illuminating, please consider purchasing a copy of my new novel, Rules of Order.

From Amazon: here

Using "Find" to Find Weak "To Be" Constructions

I'm still in the process of editing my new novel manuscript, The Dance of Rotten Sticks. One of the things that amazes me while editing is how stylistically weak sentences can continue to survive on read-through after read-through.

I call them "first draft sentences." They are the sentences we turn a blind eye to while we are trying to get down the bones of our story. If we sweat every poorly constructed sentence as we are writing the first draft... well, many of us would never finish the first draft.

But, eventually, it's time to get tough with some line-editing. We must turn, not a blind eye, but a keen eye.

As I was going through a fourth read-through, I came across a scene where my main character comes through the back door of his cabin, which gives him an immediate view out the cabin's front window, which looks down on the beach. He sees his mother-in-law standing on the beach. Here's the sentence I stumbled across:

    Helen was standing down by the water's edge.

Right away, my mind said, "What the hell, how did that weak "to be"/"was" construction get in there?" I immediately changed it to:

    Helen stood down by the water's edge.

Now the main verb is the much stronger "stood."

In a recent post, I mentioned how the "find" function in Word can help authors find troublesome areas without having to read the whole manuscript. What I want to do right now is use the find function to find the word "was" and see what I can turn up in terms of changes. If your novel is in present tense, of course you'd search for "is."

Okay, let's see what happens...

Here's one:

    Fortunately it was his son, the five-year-old, that discovered him.  

I ended up making some tweaks that made it fit in better with the other sentences... and still nixed the "was":

    Fortunately, Carson, the five-year-old, had discovered him, and not one of the older kids. 

Here's a more classic example of what I mean:

    Even in its new position, his leg was stiffening painfully again. 

To:

    Even in its new position, his leg stiffened painfully again. 

The sentence that precedes this next one mentioned that Isaac checked the weather app on his phone:

    Sure enough, the forecast was calling for an all-day rain starting at about four o’clock in the morning. 

To:

    Sure enough, the forecast called for an all-day rain starting at about four o’clock in the morning. 

Some aren't just a matter of taking out the "was" and re-conjugating. Like this one:

    She was getting bigger and would soon likely draw closer to Ashley. 

I changed that to:

    Getting older, she would soon likely draw closer to Ashley. 

Here's another:

    Whatever animal was on the ground began foraging again.

That's just an odd construction. It's nighttime, and the reader already knows that Isaac hasn't identified the animal that's making noise out in the yard. No need to repeat that he doesn't know. So...

    The animal on the ground began foraging again. 

In a subsequent draft, I might even get rid of "on the ground"... well, in fact, I just did because there's no other place the animal could be foraging but "on the ground." So...

    The animal began foraging again.

For this next one, I included the preceding sentence:

    He and Gwen had talked about a bigger house, but had decided instead to purchase a vacation cabin of their own. It wasn’t long after that that everything fell apart.

To:

    He and Gwen had talked about a bigger house, but had decided instead to purchase a vacation cabin of their own. Not long after that everything fell apart.

A final example:

    He put more ice in his glass and topped it off with the rest that was left in the bottle. 

I found this to be so much better:

    He put more ice in his glass and topped it off with the remainder of the whiskey.

I am embarrassed to report that the changes that I've included above only took me to page 20 in a 208-page manuscript. I have a lot of work yet to do! This post would go on forever if I kept including the changes I'm making. I'll be honest, too, that many of the "was" and "wasn't" constructions that I came across (up to page 20) ended up remaining. They sounded fine and would have even been clunky if I tried to change them. I'm just changing the ones that are obviously lazy, first-draft constructions.

I hope this approach helps you tighten your own manuscript when you get to the line-editing phase!

If you find my blog posts instructive or illuminating, please consider purchasing a copy of my new book of short stories, The Neighborhood Division.

From the Publisher (preferred): here

From Amazon: here

Book Trailer: here

    

    

   

An Editing Approach for Senses Abuse

Currently, I'm on the third draft of my new literary horror novel, The Dance of Rotten Sticks. It's at the point where I need to get really tough with my wording choices. As writers, there are words that we often abuse, and they make for weak sentences.

The words I'm thinking of relate to the senses. I've talked about this in a previous post about line editing, but I want to get more specific.

My novel is in past tense, so the words I'm looking for are: saw, heard, and smelled.

Let me give you an example of why these words make weak sentences.

    Isaac walked out the front door. He saw the lake roiling in the wind.

        versus

    Isaac walked out the front door. The lake roiled in the wind.

There are many improvements in that second version. First, we don't have two back-to-back sentences in which Isaac is the subject. Second we get rid of the weak verb "saw" and replace it with "roiled." Third, it's more than obvious that Isaac is taking this in through his eyes, so there's no need to account for that particular sense.

So, what I'm doing in Word is using the "find" function. I just finished searching for the word "saw" and I made about 30 changes as a result. Now, I'm going to look for the word "heard." The beauty of using the "find" function is I don't have to read through the entire manuscript scrolling for these words.

Okay, let's see what I find and how I change them.

The first one is a two-for-one... I found this sentence with a "saw" that I didn't cull during the last round.

Here's the sentence:

    He heard the river before he saw it.

I changed that to:

    The river murmured in the distance before it came into his sight. 

Beautiful... swapped out a dull "heard" for a robust "murmured." And since murmurs can only be heard, it's obvious that he's hearing it.

Taken out of context, this next one doesn't make much sense, but it's still problematic at the wording level.

    Holding his net flush against the bottom, he flipped the switch and heard the familiar high-pitched beeping. 

I changed that to:

    Holding his net flush against the river bottom, he flipped the switch on the electrofisher. The familiar high-pitched beeping pulsed from the pack. 

The changes I made here ended up being for clarification, but I also swapped out "heard" for "pulsed"... and since high-pitched beeping can only be heard, there's no reason to indicate that he's taking the stimulus in through his ears.

Here's the next:

    Not even a distant calling of the unkindness could be heard in any direction.

That needs a little explanation. A group of ravens is called an unkindness. He had just been dive-bombed by a group of ravens in the trees above him. He dove to the ground to avoid them, but when he flipped over they were gone. So... let's see if I can get rid of that "heard."

    Not even a distant cawing of the unkindness remained.

I kept this one simple, and it worked well with the sentences around it (always something to keep in mind while editing)

Here's one from a tense conversation with his mother-in-law:

    He heard the snarl in his voice and tried to soften it. 

I changed that to:

    He softened the snarl in his voice. 

Got to swap "heard" for "softened"... a much stronger verb. I also got rid of that weak "and tried to." Bonus!

Another one:

    Watching a stream of chip-speckled batter expand into a circle on the skillet, he heard Emily screaming.

And that became:

    As Isaac watched a stream of chip-speckled batter expand into a circle on the skillet, Emily screamed from the bedroom.

Swapped out "heard" for "screamed." Not bad!

Here's another:

    They heard Silas’ voice asking if everything was all right. 

Some of these could require the other sentences around it for context, but trust me that this is better:

    On the other side of the threshold, Silas asked if everything was all right. 

Almost done, but here's another:

    Positioning himself between it and Silas, Isaac heard the back door to the cabin close behind him. 

This is better:

    As Isaac positioned himself between Silas and the back door, it slammed closed behind him. 

Okay, this one is weird (his son sometimes pees in the kitchen when he sleepwalks)

    Then, one night, Isaac heard a distinct sound and bolted to the sliding glass door to see Carson with his pajama bottoms and underwear around his ankles.

Changed to:

    Then, one night, a tinkling sound sent Isaac bolting to the sliding glass door to witness Carson with his pajama bottoms and underwear around his ankles. 

And another:

    Sitting on the porch, Isaac heard the muted sounds of his son through the glass behind him where he was stationed again at the window sill with his toy cars.

To:

    Behind him, the muted sounds of his son came through the glass where Carson was stationed again at the window sill with his toy cars. 

More:

    She tapped the side of her phone, and he heard the murmur of her music again. 

To:

    She tapped the side of her phone. The murmur of her music leaked into the room again. 

    He thought he’d heard footsteps coming behind them. 

This was a fun one... I just turned it into an actual thought:

    Were those footsteps gaining behind them? 

And that's it. Did I expunge all of the "heard"s? No, that's not the goal. Sometimes the word "heard" made sense. I just edited the sentences in which "heard" was making for a weak construction, especially in instances where there was no doubt that he was taking the stimuli in through his ears.

With the "find" function in Word, this sweep of "saw", "heard", and "smelled" went pretty quickly.

Want to tighten up your prose? Try this activity with a piece that you think is near finished.

UPDATE: When I searched for the word "smelled" I only found three, which tells me I might not have engaged that sense enough in the manuscript. When I read through it again, I'll look for places to emphasize that sense where it's relevant.

If you find my blog posts instructive or illuminating, please consider purchasing a copy of my new book of short stories, The Neighborhood Division.

From the Publisher (preferred): here

From Amazon: here

Book Trailer: here

The Jump Forward/Look Backwards Approach to Beginning a Chapter

On September 29, I started my new literary horror novel, The Dance of Rotten Sticks. By October 29, I had over 50,000 words. A few days later, I finished the first draft which came in at just over 56,000 words. I'm currently in the process of rewriting the second draft.

This is the second novel I wrote this year. In the spring, when quarantine first began, I wrote a futuristic/dystopian novel entitled Falling Sky.

I wrote the first 50k-word draft in three and a half weeks.

I guess I feel I've learned a few things about writing a draft of a novel in a short time.

Sometimes I think a sticking point for writers can be making the transition from one chapter to the next. At times I believe we can think too linearly when it comes to moving events along in our books.

I don't think this is at all unique to my writing, but I've found it can be helpful to start the next chapter by jumping forward in time and then having the character reflect back on what just happened.

This can be helpful for handling difficult scenes. Or, it can be helpful for handling some mundane passage of time... scenes that you don't want to write in real time because they might be long and boring, but certain little moments within are necessary for the reader to know.

Let me offer an example. I have a scene in my new novel (an important moment) when the main character's daughter suddenly begins her period while they are at their vacation property on an island. It's an important moment, but if I handled it in real time, I'd have to write about not only her fearful reaction to what was happening to her, but also how eventually they'd have to calm her down, help clean her up, etc.

And, plot-wise, the only truly important thing the reader needs to know is that she started her period. (It's tied in to paranormal elements in the story's plot).

So, here's how I handled it. I'm including the ending of the chapter that came before so you can see how they play off of each other:

End of Chapter 14...

In the kitchen, he poured some of the batter he’d made into a smaller measuring cup. He sprinkled in chocolate chips and used a spoon to stir them through. Watching a stream of chip-speckled batter expand into a circle on the skillet, he heard Emily screaming.

“Dad! Grandma!” Ashely shouted, her voice frantic. “Come here quick. Don’t let Carson come in!”

Chapter 15

Isaac crouched on the beach next to the jagged base of the flagpole. The majority of the pole was lying on the ground pointing in the direction of Evelyn’s house. He could see where a ring of rust had been eating away at the metal for years. Previous owners had handled the problem by spraying the corroded part with a rust-blocking paint that matched the color of the pole. He could see layers of applications. It was a temporary solution at best and, even with no flag as added drag, the gale-force winds were too much for the oxidized metal. He was surprised they hadn’t heard it come down in the night. 

Isaac stood up. The wind whipped his hair around his face. Waves hitting the shore came up some three or four feet onto the beach. The beach box was tipped on its side and emptied. Hands on his hips, looking out at the volatile lake, Isaac turned back over his shoulder and checked on Carson. He was lying on his stomach with a Lego figure in each hand. He was smiling.

Isaac turned back toward the water. What a morning it had been. Helen had beaten him to the girls’ room by a few paces. When he’d come through the door frame, he saw Emily sitting cross-legged on her bed in a pooling stain of blood. The blood-speckled underside of the comforter was kicked down near the foot of the bed. Her little underwear and pajamas were soaked. She wailed and would not be consoled and claimed with certainty, when her words could be understood, that she was dying. Sitting on either side of her, Helen and Ashley kept repeating that this is what they’d talked about, that it was natural. Helen pulled the comforter back up over Emily’s lap.

Isaac stood in the doorway feeling useless.

“I want Mom! I want Mom!” Emily kept screaming.

As they slowly calmed her hysteria, Isaac slipped out to the kitchen and came back with the phone. “Here,” he’d said, extending the present to Emily. “It’s your birthday present, honey. I really think you’re going to like it.”

Still sniffling and with tears running down her cheeks, Emily unwrapped the gift. Her little trembling fingers worked meticulously at the scotch tape. She always tried to save the wrapping paper, a habit she’d picked up from Gwen.

“Just rip it open, honey,” Isaac said.

The sight of the phone brought something close to a smile on her face.

“And your sister got you a great case you can open later.” At a mall kiosk he’d found the perfect case decorated in flying butterflies. “You’re going to love it.”

While Ashley helped Emily plug the phone into its charger, Helen went to the bathroom to draw a bath. “Just a bad dream,” Isaac heard her say when Carson asked to know what was wrong.

“This is the newest iPhone, Em,” Ashley said. “A friend of mine has it, and it takes really great pictures. I can show you later.”

Emily turned the phone over in her grip. “Ok,” she said.

Helen had come back into the room and set her hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “We’ll get her all cleaned up. Take Carson outside, though. He’s getting really antsy,” she had said.

“You’re tall,” Carson said behind him.

Isaac blinked. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing staring at the lake, recalling the eventful morning.“What, bud—” He started to turn and then jumped with his hand over his heart. “Jesus Christ!” A man was standing ten feet from him with an American flag folded reverently in his grip. Isaac bent over with his hands on his knees. “Holy shit.”

“I apologize if I startled you,” he said in a flat baritone voice. “We have not met officially. I’m Silas.”

Isaac stood up and extended his hand. He paused for a moment taking in Silas’ amber eyes set in stark relief against his sallow face and long, gray hair. He looked to be flat-headed, his skull seemingly more a square than an oval. “Not your fault. I was standing here daydreaming like an idiot. I’m Isaac.” He guessed that the man was in his mid-fifties.

This jump forward/look back beginning to the chapter allowed me to do two things. One, it jumps in at an important moment... the discovery of the downed flagpole (it's an important moment to the plot)

But, it also let me summarize what happened with Emily versus having to write out the whole scene. My guess is that it probably took fifteen minutes to truly calm her down, and I didn't want to write that out in real time. This method allowed me to summarize the events through Isaac's reflecting on them.

So, the method is moving my novel into important new territory (flagpole and Silas) while allowing me to gloss over mundane moments associated with Emily's sudden period.

I think the method can be quite pleasing for the reader too. It ends the previous chapter on an exciting, mystery note... and then disorients the reader to this beach scene, which soon after ties everything together as Isaac reflects on the events of the past hour.

Well, I hope that approach gives you something to think about as you work on your own novel.

If you find my blog posts instructive or illuminating, please consider purchasing a copy of my new book of short stories, The Neighborhood Division.

From the Publisher (preferred): here

From Amazon: here

Book Trailer: here