Self-Editing Isn't Hard--But It's Not Easy, Either

"She said, She thought, She heard, She felt, She knew...Noooooo!"

Writing a new manuscript is exciting. By the time I reach the end, though, I'm usually a little weary of the story. It's easy to think, "Whew! I'm glad that's finished!" But no...I'm not.

Even though I write for an Independent Publisher, my manuscript still needs editing. However, with an Independent Publisher, she nor her staff changes my story. It's as though I am self-publishing, but not doing all the technical work.

We are required, though, to do the basic formatting and editing. In addition, each of us is to have a reader to help find those nasty, elusive writing errors. And finally, an author/editor will help clean it up.

Before I get to that step, I use a set of Self-Editing Guidelines I've had for several years. These are easy ways to pinpoint common mistakes.
For now, we'll look at only one but very important error. Highlight your manuscript to find them and rewrite the sentence.

SEARCH AND HIGHLIGHT "Telling phrases" that indicate Passive Writing:

Saw:
Wrong: She saw the waiter carry a tray of drinks past her.
Right: The waiter carried a tray of drinks past her.

Watched:
Wrong: He watched her brush out her hair.
Right: She brushed out her hair.

Other words that also can be changed are:
Heard
Felt
Thought
Knew

What exactly is Passive Writing? In easy terms, Passive Writing uses weak verbs, and in this case, "telling phrases." This is another way to describe "Show...Don't tell."

Everything the character hears, smells, sees, touches, and thinks is reflected through POV.

If the author writes, "She saw him grab the money," the writing is telling...and also becomes passive. The writer is telling the reader what is happening.

Instead, the writer should allow the character's POV to explain the action.

(Wrong) She saw him grab the money.
(Right) "He grabbed the money," Mary whispered to Susan.

Even though I believe my writing is clean of such errors, I check anyway. To my surprise, I always find too many instances.

In the manuscript I'm working on now, I first highlighted "saw." Guess what? The word "saw" was highlighted 16 times in a 66,000 word novel.

Each must be reviewed, because all of them may not be an error. Using "saw" in narrative is almost always weak, but using "saw" in dialogue might be correct.

Example I:
Narrative:
Looking toward the west, she saw two riders approaching.
Change to:
Emilie looked to the west. Two riders approached.

Example II:
I'll keep this sentence as is, because it's dialogue:
"Some of the men kept their gazes on Lee, but a couple looked out across the pasture and saw the shooter mount his horse, turn, and ride away over a slight rise."

Example III:
Narrative:
She saw that Lee and Tex kept their horses at a lope.
Change to:
Lee and Tex kept their horses at a lope.

Other highlighted passive words in my manuscript:
watched-23 times
heard-30 times
knew-64 times.

I'm not surprised by these numbers, because it's a common way to write. You might try this test on a manuscript you're working on, if you don't already do so.
I write the same as I talk, and in speaking, I use these words often. But this fact doesn't make it right.

Years ago, a contest judge sent the document about self-editing. She said my story was good but filled with weak or passive writing. I've been forever grateful that she took the time to explain.

I printed the six pages for reference, and now the corners and edges are frayed. The pages have been read many, many times.

As a reader, too, I might find a novel that's too passive, but the story is interesting anyway. In that case, I overlook the errors and read on.
The main idea is to write an exciting or emotional book.

Thank you for reading.
Celia

My Greatest Weakness

We all have our weaknesses, but I'm not talking about craving  dark chocolate or cheesecake.  I'm referring to a personality weakness, a particular aptitude I have which is probably not good.

While finishing my bachelor's degree in education and biology (at age thirty), I inadvertently signed up for a class that sounded like classroom management. It appealed to me, not only for the content, but because a man I knew taught the class. In my thinking, if this gentleman, who had been a military man, taught anything about managing people, he would undoubtedly be an expert.

However, when the class began and each of us had an opportunity to introduce ourselves, I was startled by the reasons for taking the class. Most were males, and each once spoke of needing to learn more about "how to be a school principal and keep order."

No! Not me. I had no intention of being a school principal.

At the end of the first session, I spoke with the professor.

"I think I should drop this course. It's not for me, and I don't know how I misinterpreted the class description."

He answered, "No, Celia, you don't need to drop. You will find the information and discussions valuable in managing students. Plus, I'd like to have you in the class."

I remained.

Throughout the teaching and discussions, in which each of us spoke in response to a particular scenario, I thought I was doing really well. However, half-way through the semester, this professor spoke to me privately. What did he want? To point out my major weakness.

My greatest weakness, as it turned out, was "giving individuals the benefit of the doubt too easily."

Really? What's wrong with this? In my mind, nothing, but he tried to explain that for whatever infraction a student might incur, I had the tendency to say, "I'll let it go this time" or "I know you didn't intend to break a rule or act inappropriately, so I'd like you to think about what you did."

He said, "When I heard your answers in class, I imagined you patting the student on the head, saying, 'now, now, let's be nice. Please don't do this again.'"

I taught high school students for twenty-something years. Yes, I gave many the benefit of the doubt. In some cases, there was no doubt the student had to face some kind of punishment for his severe infraction.

It wasn't that I believed the story a student--usually a male--told me, it was that I weighed the costs of seeking punishment against the value of discussing the problem with the young man.

My professor and most of the men in the class saw things in black and white. You break a rule--you pay the price.

What does this have to do with writing romance novels? Or writing in general? Probably nothing, except it might come in handy when writing a scene that includes some sort of crime or  situation.

In the WIP, TEXAS DREAMER, Emilie McDougal King must take over the ranch business and the drilling of a possible oil well, and she's facing men who aren't too happy. Her husband's life was threatened and he is injured such that he must stay in bed and medicated. She's not a particularly soft-hearted woman, but she has no taste for being harsh, either. Instead, she uses charm--as much as she knows how--and compliments the men on their willingness to carry on and take orders from her.

But along in the story, another secondary character tries to harm her behind her back. In this case, she stiffens her backbone and does not give an inch. No benefit of the doubt for this person.

In conclusion, I think our characters sometimes act as we do in real life.

I think I'm an Emilie McDougal King. I don't jump to conclusions, but I don't let anyone run over me, either. In other words, nothing is black or white.

But most of those men and the professor in the class saw the world as just that--black or white, right or wrong, no in-between.

It was a lesson well-learned for me.

Don't Mess With the Wizard of Oz!

The Wizard of Oz was released in1939, a year before I was born. The movie was a wonderful cinematic event,  a movie that began in black and white and changed to color. It also included a perfect set of characters, as we all still know and love today. It received an Oscar  nomination for  Best Picture of 1939, but it lost out to the grand Civil War epic, Gone With the Wind.

Today, in September 2013, seventy-four years later, film producers have converted The Wizard of Oz to 3D. Frankly, I don't want to watch anything in 3D.

Why mess with a perfect movie?

At around age ten or eleven, I think, Mother allowed me and my younger sister go to the movie theater to see The Wizard of Oz. Yes, it was several years old, as was I, but what did that matter? Today, the seventy-four year old movie still holds the allure it did back then.  Making it into 3D won't make it any better.

When my little sister and I settled in the theater and waited for the movie to begin, I couldn't wait to see a film in color. Before this, we had gone to the Rose Theater to watch Saturday Afternoon Matinees starring Western cowboys--Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, Lash LaRue, Hopalong Cassidy, and the Lone Ranger.

The movie began with a grand entrance, but all in black and white. I watched with great intensity, waiting for the color to begin. But it didn't. After a while, through my near-sighted eyes, I squinted. Maybe I saw a little color.

I punched my little sister's arm. "Do you see color?" No, she said. I told her , squint your eyes. I think I see color when I do that.

Well, we convinced each other this was true. But when the real color came on the screen, I almost fell out of my seat. From then on, I sat forward on the edge of the seat to make sure I didn't miss anything.

However, being a natural born fraidy cat, the flying monkeys scared me silly, and I curled up in the seat and closed my eyes.

Many years later, when our son and daughter-in-law brought the grandsons to Texas, I rented the movie The Wizard of Oz. I think they were seven and six. I let them drag old sleeping bags and pillows into the living room so they could sit or lie down and watch the movie. Their dad--our son--got on the floor with them, and I popped the video into the player.

The younger one lay down besides his daddy and watched every minute of the movie. But the older one became frightened right away, and he chose to stand behind me in my recliner and watch from afar. When those flying monkeys came screeching out, the child ran around into the dining room and hid in a corner. Talk about a fraidy cat! I tried to get him to sit with me, but he'd have none of it.

Imagine the flying monkeys in 3D.
I'd be the one to hide in a corner.

I just don't understand re-making any classic movie. An old black and white should not be colorized. A silent movie should not be made into a "talkie." And a excellent classic such as The Wizard of Oz should not be in 3D.

Next thing I know, the movie people will colorized all those old black and white Westerns, and add 3D.

They've already gone too far when they allowed Johnny Depp to be Tonto.

And that's a wrap.