Just finished editing THE TOMB / RAKOSHI for the Borderlands edition. Here’s an example of how I’ve cleaned up the prose. Some of the changes are simply fixing scan errors, but most are the removal of redundancies and passive voice.
BEFORE:
Made it!
A wonderful feeling-he and Vicky were alive and off the freighter. And only moments ago he had been ready to give up hope. But they weren't safe yet. They had to be far from the ship, preferably on shore, when those bombs went off.
The oars were still in their locks. lack grabbed them and began to row, watching the freighter recede into the dark. Manhattan was behind him, drawing nearer with every stroke. Gia and Abe would not be visible for a while yet. Vicky crouched in the stem of the raft, her head swiveling between the freighter and land. It was going to be so good to reunite her with Gia.
Jack rowed harder. The effort caused him pain, but sur-prisingly little. He should have been in agony from the deep wound behind his left shoulder, from the innumerable lac-erations all over his body, and from the avulsions where the skin had simply been tom away by the teeth of the savage little rakoshi. He felt weak from fatigue and blood loss, but he should have lost more—he should have been in near shock from the blood he had lost. The necklace truly seemed to have healing powers.
But could it really keep you young? And let you grow old if it were removed? That could be why Kolabati had refused to lend it to him when they were trapped in the pilot's cabin earlier tonight. Was it possible that Kolabati was slowly turning into an old hag back in his apartment right now? He remembered how Ron Daniels, the mugger, had sworn he hadn't rolled an old lady the night before. Perhaps that explained much of Kolabati's passion for him: It wasn't her grandmother's necklace he had returned-it was her own.
They were halfway to shore. He took a hand off an oar to reach up and touch the necklace. It might not be a bad thing to keep around. You never knew when you might-—
BEFORE:
Made it!
A wonderful feeling-he and Vicky were alive and off the freighter. And only moments ago he had been ready to give up hope. But they weren't safe yet. They had to be far from the ship, preferably on shore, when those bombs went off.
The oars were still in their locks. lack grabbed them and began to row, watching the freighter recede into the dark. Manhattan was behind him, drawing nearer with every stroke. Gia and Abe would not be visible for a while yet. Vicky crouched in the stem of the raft, her head swiveling between the freighter and land. It was going to be so good to reunite her with Gia.
Jack rowed harder. The effort caused him pain, but sur-prisingly little. He should have been in agony from the deep wound behind his left shoulder, from the innumerable lac-erations all over his body, and from the avulsions where the skin had simply been tom away by the teeth of the savage little rakoshi. He felt weak from fatigue and blood loss, but he should have lost more—he should have been in near shock from the blood he had lost. The necklace truly seemed to have healing powers.
But could it really keep you young? And let you grow old if it were removed? That could be why Kolabati had refused to lend it to him when they were trapped in the pilot's cabin earlier tonight. Was it possible that Kolabati was slowly turning into an old hag back in his apartment right now? He remembered how Ron Daniels, the mugger, had sworn he hadn't rolled an old lady the night before. Perhaps that explained much of Kolabati's passion for him: It wasn't her grandmother's necklace he had returned-it was her own.
They were halfway to shore. He took a hand off an oar to reach up and touch the necklace. It might not be a bad thing to keep around. You never knew when you might-—
FPW
FAQ
"It means 'Ask the next question.' Ask the next question, and the one that follows that, and the one that follows that. It's the symbol of everything humanity has ever created." Theodore Sturgeon.
Here’s the fixed version.
AFTER:
Made it!
A wonderful feeling—he and Vicky were alive and off the freighter. Only moments ago he’d been ready to give up hope.
But they weren't safe yet. They had to be far from the ship, preferably on shore, when those bombs went off.
Jack grabbed the oars and began to row, watching the freighter recede into the dark. Manhattan waited behind him, drawing nearer with every stroke. Gia and Abe wouldn’t be visible for a while yet. Vicky crouched in the stern of the raft, her head swiveling between the freighter and land. He couldn’t wait to reunite her with Gia.
Jack rowed harder. The effort caused him pain, but sur-prisingly little. He should have been in agony from the deep wound behind his left shoulder, from the innumerable lac-erations all over his body, and from the pockets where the teeth of the savage little rakoshi had torn away the skin. He felt weak from fatigue and blood loss, but he should have lost more—he should have been in near shock. The necklace truly seemed to have healing powers.
But could it really keep you young? And let you grow old if it were removed? That could be why Kolabati had refused to lend it to him when they were trapped in the pilot's cabin. Could Kolabati be slowly turning into an old hag back in his apartment right now? He remembered how Ron Daniels, the mugger, had sworn he hadn't rolled an old lady the night before. Perhaps that explained much of Kolabati's passion for him: It wasn't her grandmother's necklace he’d returned—it was her own.
He took a hand off an oar to reach up and touch the necklace. It might not be a bad thing to keep around. You never knew when you might-—
AFTER:
Made it!
A wonderful feeling—he and Vicky were alive and off the freighter. Only moments ago he’d been ready to give up hope.
But they weren't safe yet. They had to be far from the ship, preferably on shore, when those bombs went off.
Jack grabbed the oars and began to row, watching the freighter recede into the dark. Manhattan waited behind him, drawing nearer with every stroke. Gia and Abe wouldn’t be visible for a while yet. Vicky crouched in the stern of the raft, her head swiveling between the freighter and land. He couldn’t wait to reunite her with Gia.
Jack rowed harder. The effort caused him pain, but sur-prisingly little. He should have been in agony from the deep wound behind his left shoulder, from the innumerable lac-erations all over his body, and from the pockets where the teeth of the savage little rakoshi had torn away the skin. He felt weak from fatigue and blood loss, but he should have lost more—he should have been in near shock. The necklace truly seemed to have healing powers.
But could it really keep you young? And let you grow old if it were removed? That could be why Kolabati had refused to lend it to him when they were trapped in the pilot's cabin. Could Kolabati be slowly turning into an old hag back in his apartment right now? He remembered how Ron Daniels, the mugger, had sworn he hadn't rolled an old lady the night before. Perhaps that explained much of Kolabati's passion for him: It wasn't her grandmother's necklace he’d returned—it was her own.
He took a hand off an oar to reach up and touch the necklace. It might not be a bad thing to keep around. You never knew when you might-—
FPW
FAQ
"It means 'Ask the next question.' Ask the next question, and the one that follows that, and the one that follows that. It's the symbol of everything humanity has ever created." Theodore Sturgeon.
Any idea when this is scheduled to ship? Being this is my favorite book of yours and the only time it will be released with your originally intended title, I decided to purchase this one (I normally don't buy hardcover). I had actually forgotten who was publishing it, so I am glad you posted this.
You DA MAN!!!
Jim (unashamedly trying to ingratiate myself with DA MAN!!!)
You DA MAN!!!
Jim (unashamedly trying to ingratiate myself with DA MAN!!!)
The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. ... The piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.
~ Howard Phillips Lovecraft
jimbow8 Wrote:Any idea when this is scheduled to ship?
November, I believe - the 20th anniversary of first publication.
http://www.borderlandspress.com/adversarycycle.htm
FPW
FAQ
"It means 'Ask the next question.' Ask the next question, and the one that follows that, and the one that follows that. It's the symbol of everything humanity has ever created." Theodore Sturgeon.
Lisa Wrote:Thanks for posting the edits! You should post some more
Okay. One more.
As you can see, I'm doing a very close line edit -- I find my rampant use of the passive voice back then appalling. Plus the novel is overwritten, so I'm tightening up the prose. It still won't be as lean and mean as the books from LEGACIES onward, but at least stylistically closer.
I'm also tweaking the Rakoshi myth and changing the caliber of some of the weaponry. I've found a few anachronisms I missed in the 1998 version. They've been zapped.
I'm catching embarrassing redundancies: people crouching down, smoke rising up, the dying mother rakosh falling to her death "trailing smoke and flame behind her." (Like where else would she trail them? Ahead of her? Nice trick.)
The good news is I've found I don't have to change the characters. At all. They hold up just fine. The problem was all the excess verbiage I forced them (and the reader) to wade though.
If nothing else, this process has shown me that I'm a better writer now than I was in the early eighties. And I'm still learning.
BEFORE: (comments in paras)
Oil. Fire! He finally had a weapon—if it was not too late. The Mother had pulled herself almost to within reach of the roof edge. He twisted at the metal cap, but it wouldn't budge—it was rusted shut. In desperation he slammed the edge of the cap twice against the generator and tried again. Pain shot through the earlier wound in his palm, but he kept up the pressure. Finally it came loose and he was up and scrambling across the roof, unscrewing the cap as he moved, thanking Con Ed for the last blackout—if there hadn't been a blackout,(didn’t I just mention a blackout?) the tenants wouldn't have chipped in for an emergency generator, and Jack would have been completely defenseless now. (that’s obvious)
AFTER:
Oil. Fire!
He finally had a weapon—if it wasn’t too late.
The Mother had pulled herself almost to within reach of the roof edge. He twisted at the metal cap but it wouldn't budge—rusted shut. In desperation he slammed the edge of the cap twice against the generator and tried again. Pain shot through the earlier wound in his palm, but he kept up the pressure. Finally it came loose and he was up and scrambling across the roof, unscrewing the cap as he moved, thanking the faulty power grip for the last blackout. Without it, he and the other tenants wouldn't have chipped in for an emergency generator.
FPW
FAQ
"It means 'Ask the next question.' Ask the next question, and the one that follows that, and the one that follows that. It's the symbol of everything humanity has ever created." Theodore Sturgeon.
fpw Wrote:Okay. One more.
As you can see, I'm doing a very close line edit -- I find my rampant use of the passive voice back then appalling. Plus the novel is overwritten, so I'm tightening up the prose. It still won't be as lean and mean as the books from LEGACIES onward, but at least stylistically closer.
I'm also tweaking the Rakoshi myth and changing the caliber of some of the weaponry. I've found a few anachronisms I missed in the 1998 version. They've been zapped.
I'm catching embarrassing redundancies: people crouching down, smoke rising up, the dying mother rakosh falling to her death "trailing smoke and flame behind her." (Like where else would she trail them? Ahead of her? Nice trick.)
The good news is I've found I don't have to change the characters. At all. They hold up just fine. The problem was all the excess verbiage I forced them (and the reader) to wade though.
If nothing else, this process has shown me that I'm a better writer now than I was in the early eighties. And I'm still learning.
BEFORE: (comments in paras)
Oil. Fire! He finally had a weapon—if it was not too late. The Mother had pulled herself almost to within reach of the roof edge. He twisted at the metal cap, but it wouldn't budge—it was rusted shut. In desperation he slammed the edge of the cap twice against the generator and tried again. Pain shot through the earlier wound in his palm, but he kept up the pressure. Finally it came loose and he was up and scrambling across the roof, unscrewing the cap as he moved, thanking Con Ed for the last blackout—if there hadn't been a blackout,(didn’t I just mention a blackout?) the tenants wouldn't have chipped in for an emergency generator, and Jack would have been completely defenseless now. (that’s obvious)
AFTER:
Oil. Fire!
He finally had a weapon—if it wasn’t too late.
The Mother had pulled herself almost to within reach of the roof edge. He twisted at the metal cap but it wouldn't budge—rusted shut. In desperation he slammed the edge of the cap twice against the generator and tried again. Pain shot through the earlier wound in his palm, but he kept up the pressure. Finally it came loose and he was up and scrambling across the roof, unscrewing the cap as he moved, thanking the faulty power grip for the last blackout. Without it, he and the other tenants wouldn't have chipped in for an emergency generator.
I took a judicial writing course back in the '80s, and the first thing the faculty told us was "get rid of passive voice". Legal writing from the 20th Century back is just filled with passive voice (and yes, I know that was passive voice ).
Chief Justice John Marshall (whom I despise for more important reasons) was one of the worst offenders. You should read some of his "great" opinions, such as Marbury v. Madison and Gibbons v. Ogden. I'm sure Rakoshi will be tighter than The Tomb, but I still would give almost anything for a fine first edition of the latter.
http://www.northernindianacriminaldefense.com
"I don't always carry a pistol, but when I do, I prefer an East German Makarov"
fpw Wrote:Okay. One more.
If nothing else, this process has shown me that I'm a better writer now than I was in the early eighties. And I'm still learning.
Wow, I'm impressed. I thought The Tomb was brilliant and didn't need editing, but I can see how your new edits improve the prose.
Thanks for sharing this with us. It's wicked cool!
Passive voice always gets me in trouble. I just received my copies of Woe Is I and Words Fail Me. I hope they'll help me with my grammar issues.
Susan
PS: Paul, you're really good at this editing stuff. I can see you enjoy it so I'll be e-mailing my entire manuscript shortly so you can tighten the prose on it. Oh come on, it'll be fun! Hehehe. :p
FPW Stores:
A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world. ~ Oscar Wilde
Insanity in individuals is something rare -- but in groups, parties, nations, and epochs it is the rule.~Nietzche
Insanity in individuals is something rare -- but in groups, parties, nations, and epochs it is the rule.~Nietzche
fpw Wrote:Just finished editing THE TOMB / RAKOSHI for the Borderlands edition. Here’s an example of how I’ve cleaned up the prose. Some of the changes are simply fixing scan errors, but most are the removal of redundancies and passive voice.
BEFORE:
and from the avulsions where the skin had simply been torn away by the teeth of the savage little rakoshi. -—
Well, it is redundant, but at least readers learned what an avulsion is -- without having to resort to Steadman's.
Ken V.