Which is it?
I
was fascinated by a debate recently about whether editing / rewriting was more
about adding or taking away. One of my MA students recently said that once he
had edited his text it would be slightly over the 12,000 words required and
that currently it was slightly under. Mark
Twain famously said that if he had had more time he would have written less. In
the debate I followed, some writers were saying that their edited drafts were longer
than their originals. Others said the opposite. So I started watching myself very
carefully. I was already convinced I did both.
What tends to make drafts longer
It’s
usually where I’ve been telling instead of showing. Of course, sometimes it’s
okay to tell and an experienced writer has a sense of how to get the balance
between the two right. We take short cuts in the 21st century anyway
as we don’t need as much detailed description. Say “New York” and even people
who have never been there get an image. But the scenes I need to extend are
usually the ones where I’ve been lazy. I need to show my reader that my
character is uncomfortable by the way he acts and / or thinks. I need to create
a film in my reader’s head similar to the one I have in my own.
Sometimes
a whole scene is missing. It’s almost as if I’ve forgotten to spell something out
to the reader. We are hampered by our intimate knowledge of our characters and stories.
An extra scene can sometimes help to ground the reader more.
Sometimes
I want to avoid using the word “said” too much. I certainly don’t want to
substitute it with another word other than maybe “whispered” or “shouted” and I
may have those there already. Yet the speech needs assigning. At that point it’s
useful to have the character who speaks perform a relevant action:
“I’ve no idea.” Barney frowned and looked away.
What tends to make drafts shorter
Sometimes
I discover that it’s just not necessary to say something. I do like to have my
young adult characters say one thing and think another. But sometimes it’s
obvious that that’s what a character thinks from a previous action.
I
tend to use “seemed to”, “was ….ing” and “suddenly” too often. A more direct
language is often more effective. “Suddenly he seemed to be sitting on the sofa,”
is stronger as “He sat down on the sofa.”
Sometimes
a whole scene is not needed at all. This happens especially near the beginning
of a novel or a story. So often those opening paragraphs / chapters are there
simply to help the writer into the story.
We’re
all guilty from time to time of expanded sentences: “It was a great
disappointment to him that the museum was closed on Wednesday afternoons.” Why
not just “He was disappointed that the museum was closed on Wednesday
afternoon.”?
All
of these, though, stay if they’re part of the character’s voice. It tends to be
fine in conversation anyway.
Just changing
This
is usually about finding something better than the accepted cliché.
The clay-modelling analogy
My second and subsequent drafts d tend to come out a little
longer than the first ones, despite there being more examples of reasons to
extract text than to add it. I guess those scenes that need to be shown rather
than told account for that. In fact, though, I take away almost as much as I
add. I reshape a fair bit too.
It is a little like clay-modelling. The first draft gets out
the basic shape. Then you add a little clay here, take a little away there and
reshape as you go. You know about what needs to be done with your text the same
way as you know what needs to be done with the clay. In the end it is intuitive
rather than rule-bound.
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