Tag Archive for: Writing and Editing

Gay Yellen: Weeding and Wording

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Just found out that today is National Weed Your Garden Day, which couldn’t be more appropriate for me at the moment, though instead of culling crabgrass, I’m weeding out words.

vecteezy.com

The most common offenders I’ve dug up so far are: just, seemed, felt, but, winced, smiled, and a few other crutches a writer too often leans on.

The good news is that this exercise signals my last round of self-editing for The Body in the News, Book 3 in my Samantha Newman Mystery Series. Once this task is completed, I’ll be sending the manuscript to my publisher.

The bad news is, I’ve been so focused on finishing the new book that I completely forgot to plan a subject for this, my monthly Stiletto Gang post. So, in honor of this “national” day, let’s talk about weeds… oops, I meant words.

I was surprised when a friend commented that she thought I consciously chose to use more common language in my books than I use in my natural speech. Well, yes, and no. The characters in my books are not me, and even though I write their dialogue, the way they express themselves is their own.

When the writing is going well, I’m listening to Samantha and Carter and their supporting cast as they dictate their words to me. Older people use different words than younger adults and children do. Sticklers for facts, such as my detective, Buron Washington, are more clipped and precise when they speak. And so on, down to a new character whose vocabulary is unique unto itself.

However, the weeds in this manuscript are entirely my fault, and I must get back to yanking them out, one by one. But before I go, here’s a question:

Does the way a person speaks reveal something unique about their mood or character? How so?

Gay Yellen writes the award-winning Samantha Newman Mysteries including The Body Business, The Body Next Door, and out later this summer, The Body in the News.

Dance (and write?) Like Nobody’s Watching

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Rachel Brady

Maybe it’s just me, but publishing a book feels a little bit like getting a serious groove on when you think you’re alone but people are watching. Dang. If I knew you were standing there during my unabashed booty-shake*, I’d have worked on my moves a little more.

When I wrote my first novel, I had no idea my friends and co-workers would read it one day. That is probably a good thing, because just like we should dance like nobody’s watching, I also think we should write like nobody’s reading . . .

. . . but only during the early drafts.

Later in the process, we have agents and editors to prevent us from embarrassing ourselves and help us shine.

Thing is, I don’t like my agent or editor to see my early drafts. I don’t like to publicly mess up. But in the life cycle of a book, this is required. So I have a few close writing friends who look over pages before I do the literary equivalent of busting a move on the dance floor with toilet paper stuck to my shoe.

Their job is to tell me which parts are humming and which parts I should cut and delete off my hard drive so they can never be traced back to me.

Rules of engagement go something like this.

1. Must be frank.
Recently, I got a note in one scene that just said: Huh??
Enough said. Thank you, it’s fixed now.

2. Must tell me when I use the wrong word.
You were right. A voice “crackles” on a speaker, it doesn’t “cackle.” Thank you for preventing me from being exposed as the imposter I am.

3. Must call Bullsh!t on me when I handwave around an ill-conceived plot point.
Perhaps I’m inherently lazy or just hopeful nobody will notice, but my friends always do. A good reader will tell you it doesn’t make sense and spare you from hearing it from an editor, who I promise will always notice.

4. Must wield a pen like a machete.
There’s a prevailing notion that getting copy back with a lot of red ink (or tracked changes) is a negative thing, but I love it. When this happens, a reader isn’t trying to re-write your stuff so much as suggest an alternate way to present it. I usually like the new way better and almost always use it, sometimes shamelessly ripping off a line and passing it off as my own. Before you judge me, my friend David says there’s no such thing as plagiarism between friends*. He calls it an homage, which sounds so, so much better.

My editor likes to see the first 100 pages of a new story before I get too far along with the book. It’ll be a while before that happens, because right now my fave writing buds, Bill Tate and David Hansard, are off employing rules 1-4, helping me make sure I don’t go out on the dance floor looking like Elaine.

Writing is solitary sometimes. Other times, it’s a tremendous team effort. This post is a virtual hug to Bill and Dave, who are reading for me now, and to Laura Weber and Nikki Bonanni, who read for me earlier and helped me get this story off the ground.

Thanks to you all, maybe next year I’ll be rockin’.


*Clips are more fun in foreign languages, don’t you think?
**When employing the homage approach, it’s good to have reader friends who won’t sue you. Good luck.