Fiction editing: edit me Thursday #4

Welcome to another Edit me Thursday post where I'll be editing a page submitted by...well...anyone! To submit a one-page piece (or less) of your own writing email me at: bjbstories @ yahoo. com  (You're identity will be kept anonymous!)


Disclaimer: About my editing style...I chip a lot, I tweak a lot, and I analyze everything to the Nth degree. So as with anybody’s edits, they’re only suggestions, and they reflect my own writing style. I’ve had many occasions where someone suggests an edit that harmed the story rather than helped it. But hopefully the edits below make good sense.

My Goal:  To maintain the author's story and the authors voice while improving the story's flow, structure, vocabulary, clarity, action (non-passivity), and general readability.

When you (anyone reading this blog) finish looking over the changes I made to the entry below, let me know what you think? Did the edits help, or was it better off untouched? Or did you really like/dislike one particular edit I made? Let me know (and the author know) in a comment!

1) Draft sent to me
2) My edit
3) Suggestions and explanations
4) Clean draft with Brandon's edits


1) Draft sent to me

Chance heard a creak in the darkness behind him in the direction of the hallway and he immediately set the mainframe detonator.  His checklist of sabotage was finally complete.  The door behind him crashed open, and Chance jumped onto the table, changing in mid-leap into an ape.  With legs made for leaping, he catapulted himself up toward the window ledge above him, and just in time.  He felt the air behind him move; felt the near-touch of his would be captors.  He turned to see who it was, and his eyes adjusted in the darkness to see – a tiger.  His shock nearly undid him, but as the tiger sprang for him, he reacted quickly, slipping out of the window and leaping into the air, again changing – but this time into a bat.  He flapped his wings madly for a moment, and then glided away into the dark shadow of the building.  Once in a secluded corner, he changed once again, this time into a cheetah.  With quick strides he sprinted across the deserted parking lot and down the nearby street.  He knew he wouldn’t have much time to sprint in this form.  The cheetah was fast, but only for short sprints.  He made it through the small town, and transformed into a dog, as he loped into the grassy sand dunes.

            Knowing that pursuit could be right behind him, he continued to run until he was splashing in the shallow waves.  As his paws left the ground and he paddled into the water, he transformed back into his normal man shape, and stroked as powerfully as he could into the deeper water, diving under the waves, changing into a shark.  He swam on as a shark for a while, and then as the water became deeper, and he left all vestiges of waves behind him, he changed again, lengthening and growing into a whale.  As he surfaced to take in air, he heard an explosion behind him, almost deafening in this form.  The waves of sound traveled through the water with an intensity he hadn’t anticipated.


2) My edit

Chance heard a creak in the darkness behind him in the direction of the hallway and he immediately set the mainframe detonator.  His checklist of sabotage was finally complete ("checklist" snatches me out of the scene...it conjures an image of someone actually making a tally on an actual "sabotage list". And that comes across humorously in my mind. If saying something along these lines is really important, then perhaps "His last act of sabotage was complete" but if this sentence can be removed from the story whole, then remove it.).  The door behind him crashed open(.), and Chance jumped onto the table, changing in mid-leap into an ape.  With powerful legs made for leaping(leap was used in last sentence), he catapulted himself up toward the window ledge above him, and just in time.("just in time" is telly. Deflates the power of the next sentence)  He felt the air behind him move; felt with the near-touch of his pursuer would be captors.  Reaching the ledge, H(h)e turned to see who it was, and his eyes adjusted in the darkness to see – a tiger.  His The  shock nearly undid him(.), but as t (T)he tiger sprang for him, he reacted quickly, and he dove slipping out of the window and leaping into the air, again changing – but this time into a bat.  He flapped his wings madly for a moment, and then glided away down into a the darkened crevice shadow of at the foot of the building (the bat needed to be on the ground before the next sentence when he turns into a cheetah--that's why I made the changes to this sentence).  Once in a secluded corner, he changed once again Chance altered shape, this time into("this time into a" was used already) --a cheetah.  With quick strides he sprinted across the deserted parking lot and down the nearby street.  He knew he There wouldn’t have be much time to sprint in this form.  The cheetah was fast, but only for short sprints.  He made it through the small came to the edge of town, his thin lungs weezing.(I felt he should be weezing after the mention of a cheetah only running for short sprints...plus it creates tension) and There, he transformed into a dog, as he and loped into the grassy sand dunes.(Can you call sand dunes grassy? Having read the next paragraph, these "dunes" are a beach. perhaps simply call it such... "he loped onto the sandy beach.")

            Knowing that The pursuit could be right behind him was not over, he could feel it. Call it a canine's sixth sense.(The phrase felt too formal and created distance between the character and the reader, the change I made keeps the reader right there with Chance, adds tension, and even exploits Chance's temporary doggy attributes.) , h (H)e continued to run until he was splashing in the shallow waves.  As his paws left the ground and he paddled into the water, he transformed back into his normal man human shape, and stroked as powerfully as he could into the for deeper water(.), d (D)iving under the a waves, he changed ing into a shark, and with one thunderous thrust of his tail he was in fifty feet of water and he had become a whale.(I felt with the constant morphing, at the end it became too much, so I felt tightening the details between him going from shark to whale was necessary to preserve the tension.)  He swam on as a shark for a while, and then as the water became deeper, and he left all until the last vestiges of the waves lay behind him, he changed again, lengthening and growing into a whale.  As he surfaced to take in air, he heard an explosion behind him, almost deafening in this mammalian form.  The waves of sound traveled through the water climaxing with an horrific intensity he hadn’t anticipated.
-Oohh, what will happen next! We are all in suspense! :)


3) Suggestions and explanations

Well, as you can see, I explained most things in the orange font within the edit.

-Basically all I did was tighten, and add a few things to draw the reader into the character(the cheetah's weezing, the dog's sixth sense).  Sometimes tightening requires a slight restructuring of a sentence. This is good. To look at each sentence and see if it can be improved, tightened, made more active is always fun, because afterwords you're rewarded with a more potent sentence, and ultimately, a more gripping story.

-One further possibility/suggestion for this piece is to cut out some of the morphing going on. That would help prevent the morphing from being repetitive. Which animal(s) to eliminate would be a tough choice in my opinion.

I found this week's selection very engaging. The author has an exciting story on their hands! And by the way everyone, I had a professional editor go through the last novel I finished and do the same thing. It was wonderful to see what she did, and I learned a ton! Much of what you see above here is a result of what she taught me. Alethea Eason is her name, and she's the author of the YA sci-fi novel, Hungry.


4) Clean draft with Brandon's edits

Chance heard a creak in the darkness behind him and immediately set the mainframe detonator.  The door behind him crashed open. Chance jumped onto the table, changing mid-leap into an ape.  With powerful legs, he catapulted himself toward the window ledge above him, and felt the air behind him move with the near-touch of his pursuer.  Reaching the ledge, he turned to see who it was, and his eyes adjusted in the darkness to see – a tiger.  The shock nearly undid him. The tiger sprang and he dove out the window, again changing – but this time into a bat.  He flapped his wings madly for a moment, and then glided down into a darkened crevice at the foot of the building.  Once again Chance altered shape--a cheetah.  With quick strides he sprinted across the deserted parking lot and down the nearby street. There wouldn’t be much time to sprint in this form.  The cheetah was fast, but only for short sprints.  He came to the edge of town, his thin lungs weezing. There, he transformed into a dog and loped into the beach.

The pursuit was not over, he could feel it. Call it a canine's sixth sense. He continued to run until he was splashing in the shallow waves. As his paws left the ground, he transformed back into his human shape, and stroked powerfully for deeper water. Diving under a wave he changed into a shark, and with one thunderous thrust of his tail he was in fifty feet of water and he had become a whale. As he surfaced to take in air, he heard an explosion behind him, almost deafening in this mammalian form.  The waves of sound traveled through the water, climaxing with horrific intensity.

Fiction editing: edit me Thursday #3

Welcome to another Edit me Thursday post where I'll be editing a page submitted by...well...anyone! To submit a one-page piece (or less) of your own writing email me at: bjbstories @ yahoo. com  (You're identity will be kept anonymous!)

Disclaimer: About my editing style...I chip a lot, I tweak a lot, and I analyze everything to the Nth degree. So as with anybody’s edits, they’re only suggestions, and they reflect my own writing style. I’ve had many occasions where someone suggests an edit that harmed the story rather than helped it. But hopefully the edits below make good sense.

My Goal:  To maintain the author's story and the authors voice while improving the story's flow, structure, vocabulary, clarity, action (non-passivity), and general readability.

When you (anyone reading this blog) finish looking over the changes I made to the entry below, let me know what you think? Did the edits help, or was it better off untouched? Or did you really like/dislike one particular edit I made? Let me know (and the author know) in a comment!

1) Draft sent to me
2) My edit
3) Suggestions and explanations
4) Clean draft with Brandon's edits


1) Draft sent to me

Areli spun on his heels, flashlight in hand, to find two middle-aged men standing before him.  The one on the left was a tall, lean brute of European descent wearing a dirty trench coat and a long white head of hair, which flowed into an unruly beard.  His companion was much shorter and seemed to have some distant Asian roots.  He was wearing a tight t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants.  It was not the rough look of the two that concerned Areli so much as the long steel rod the tall one carried at his right hip. 

         “Ow’re ya findin’ yerself in these parts at this hour, mate.”  A gruff voice issued from the owner of the metal weapon.

         “Just on my way out, friend,” Areli replied calmly.
    “Had better choose your words more carefully,” sneered the aggressor’s companion, “Wouldn’t wanna give the wrong impression.  Not out here.”

         “Thank you.  I’ll remember that.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be on my way.”

         “Sure, sure.  Ri’ after ya hand over yer pack,” were the final words from the tall one.
         Areli sighed deeply and assumed the stable base he had so often taken on the mat.  The dirty syncrete under him, however, was not nearly so stable, nor as forgiving, as the flooring in which he had grown accustomed.  Keeping this in the back of his mind, Areli looked rapidly back and forth at the two figures in the night.

         The first move came from the smaller of the two.  Issuing forward with lightning speed, he attempted to secure the flashlight Areli held in his right hand.  Just barely avoiding the lunging arms, Areli delivered a left elbow to the side of the head of the attacker, who, in turn, dropped heavily to the ground.  This only barely gave his accomplice time to strike Areli in the left shoulder blade with his makeshift weapon.  Staggering sideways, Areli quickly regrouped and reengaged.  Blocking another wild swing of the rod with his flashlight, just as the noble warriors did so many centuries before, he caught the dark figure square in the left side of his rib-cage with a tight left fist, followed by a final blow to the jaw with his light, which placed the fiend next to his companion on the ground.  Transferring his flashlight to the left hand so he could hold his throbbing shoulder with the right, Areli quickly made off with newfound energy in the direction of the city wall.


         2) My edit

Areli spun on his heels, gripping his flashlight in hand,(.) to find t (T)wo middle-aged men stood standing before him.  The o (O)ne on the left was a tall, lean brute of European descent wearing a dirty trench coat and a long white head of hair, which flowed into an unruly beard (too much description).  His companion was much shorter and seemed to have some distant a short Asian roots.  He was wearing a tight t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants.  It was not the rough look of the two that concerned Areli so much as the long steel rod the tall one carried at his right hip. 

         “Ow’re ya findin’ yerself in these parts at this hour, mate.(,)” came the A gruff voice issued from the owner of the metal weapon.

         “Just on my way out, friend,” Areli replied calmly.
    “Had better choose your words more carefully,” sneered the aggressor’s companion short Asian, “Wouldn’t wanna give the wrong impression.  Not out here.”

         “Thank you.  I’ll remember that.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be on my way.”

         “Sure, sure.(,)" said the tall one, "Ri’ after ya hand over yer pack,(.)” were the final words from the tall one.  
         Areli sighed deeply and assumed the stable base fighting stance he had so often taken on the mat.  The dirty syncrete under him, however, was not nearly so wasn't as stable, nor as forgiving, as the flooring in which he had grown was accustomed to.  Keeping this He kept this in the back of his mind, Areli looked rapidly back and forth at the two figures in the night.

         The first move came from the Asian smaller of the two.  Issuing He sprang forward with lightning speed, he attempted to secure snatching at the flashlight Areli held in his Areli's right hand.  Just barely avoiding the lunging arms, Areli delivered a left elbow to the side of the his head of the attacker's head(.), who, in turn, The man dropped heavily to the ground.  This only barely gave his accomplice time to strike  (paragraph break)
         An agonizing pain exploded in Areli's in the left shoulder blade with his makeshift weapon.  Staggering sideways, he Areli quickly regrouped and reengaged saw the tall brute lift the steel rod for a second strike.  Blocking another Areli blocked the wild swing of the rod with his flashlight, just as the noble warriors did so many centuries before, he then caught the dark figure square in the left side of his rib-cage with a tight left fist(.), followed by a. The man doubled over and Areli final blow to uppercutted the man's jaw with his light, which placing ed the fiend him next to his companion on the ground.  Transferring his flashlight to the left hand so he could hold his throbbing shoulder with the right,  (paragraph break)
       Areli grimaced as he touched his shoulder. He had to keep moving.  quickly made off w(W)ith newfound energy he made off in the direction of the city wall.

         3) Suggestions and Explanations

It's a good action scene, it just needed tightening and some weeding out of "distance creating language" or passive voice. Finding dynamic ways to rephrase an action sequence really brings the scene to life.

Also, in action sequences. Break up the action. It becomes passive voice all too easily when trying to string too many actions together. It's all about finding that perfect prose flow.

In an action sequence, one can't be too descriptive, because it slows the reader down and diffuses the sense of urgency necessary to create the right cadence for an action scene.

Also the character receives an injury to his arm. I think its necessary for him to remember his pain (touching it and grimacing) that way it maintains the realism, and doesn't move on as if he had never been injured at all. (and a metal pipe to the shoulder seems pretty rough!)


         4) Clean draft with Brandon's edits

         Areli spun, gripping his flashlight. Two middle-aged men stood before him.  One was a tall, lean brute of European descent wearing a dirty trench coat.  His companion was a short Asian wearing a tight t-shirt and jogging pants.  It was not the rough look of the two that concerned Areli so much as the long steel rod the tall one carried at his right hip. 

         “Ow’re ya findin’ yerself in these parts at this hour, mate,” came the gruff voice from the owner of the metal weapon.

         “Just on my way out, friend,” Areli replied calmly.
    “Had better choose your words more carefully,” sneered the short Asian, “Wouldn’t wanna give the wrong impression.  Not out here.”

         “Thank you.  I’ll remember that.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be on my way.”

         “Sure, sure," said the tall one, "Ri’ after ya hand over yer pack.”

         Areli sighed deeply and assumed the fighting stance he had so often taken on the mat.  The dirty syncrete under him wasn't as stable, nor as forgiving, as the flooring he was accustomed to.  He kept this in the back of his mind.

         The first move came from the Asian.  He sprang forward with lightning speed snatching at the flashlight in Areli's right hand.  Areli delivered a left elbow to the attacker's head. The man dropped heavily to the ground. 

         An agonizing pain exploded in Areli's left shoulder.  Staggering sideways, he saw the tall brute lift the steel rod for a second strike.  Areli blocked the wild swing with his flashlight then caught the dark figure square in the rib-cage with a tight left fist. The man doubled-over and Areli uppercutted the man's jaw with his light, placing him next to his companion on the ground.

       Areli grimaced as he touched his shoulder. He had to keep moving. With newfound energy he made off in the direction of the city wall.

After some thought on my last edit

Okay, I was looking at Thursday's edits, and I realized I made a mistake. I think I over-edited the piece! :(
I think I over-edited because I didn't have the fuller perspective of the entire story. Without the entire chapter, (or book) it's hard to do more than just basic edits. I don't think I was justified in cutting so much since I don't have the full chapter that this leads into. From now on for Edit Me Thursday, I'll remember this!!

 I think some of the dialogue I cut was fine. So here's a better edit:

“She’s in pain—how is this possible?” Adaiyas said.

“I cannot explain it, First Elf—“

“Cannot explain it? You’re the midwife; it’s your job to explain it!”

“Has your wife experienced pain like this before?”

“What are you suggesting, Corina?”

“If I did not know better, I’d suggest labour pains—“ (This line [and the one below it] only works if Corina isn't an elf. Because if she is, this topic of labour pains wouldn't be brought up. But if she is human or some other species, then it would justify Adaiyas's response below. But if Corina is an elf, it sounds funny for Adaiya's to tell her that "Elves do not suffer labour pains..." )

“Elves do not suffer labour pains, Midwife.”

Corina, the midwife, wrung her hands together hopelessly as she stared at the slim elf woman on the birthing mat. No longer clutching to the circular delivery chamber’s birthing pole, her hands now The pregnant elf clutched her swollen belly as she and screamed, a tormented wail pierced the late afternoon air.

First Elf Adaiyas leapt from his stool and took his wife’s hand in his(.) distressed by the sight of t (T)ears flowed ing down her bronze cheeks to mingle with sweat dampened her blond hair. “Do something, Corina. Please.”

Experienced hands Corina explored Filarna’s swollen belly. “Something is wrong, First Elf. The baby is not head-down but sideways. Your wife is fully dilated and attempting delivery, but as the baby cannot enter the birth canal, the contractions have it pinned are causing her great pain.”

Okay! Now I feel better :)

I couldn't live with my conscious if I didn't amend my over-edit. I can go on in peace now for the rest of the week :)

Fiction editing: edit me Thursday # 2

Welcome to another Edit me Thursday post where I'll be editing a page submitted by...well...anyone! To submit a one-page piece of your own writing email me at: bjbstories @ yahoo. com  (You're identity will be kept anonymous!)

Disclaimer: About my editing style...I chip a lot, I tweak a lot, and I analyze everything to the Nth degree. So as with anybody’s edits they’re only suggestions, and they reflect my own writing style. I’ve had many occasions where someone suggests an edit that harmed the story rather than helped it. But hopefully the edits below make good sense.

My Goal:  To maintain the author's story and the authors voice while improving the story's flow, structure, vocabulary, clarity, action (non-passivity), and general readability.

When you (anyone reading this blog) finish looking over the changes I made to the entry below, let me know what you think? Did the edits help, or was it better off untouched? Or did you really like/dislike one particular edit I made? Let me know (and the author know) in a comment!

1) Draft sent to me
2) First edit
3) Suggestions and explanations
4) Clean draft with Brandon's edits

1) Draft sent to me

“She’s in pain—how is this possible?” Adaiyas said.

“I cannot explain it, First Elf—“

“Cannot explain it? You’re the midwife; it’s your job to explain it!”

“Has your wife experienced pain like this before?”

“What are you suggesting, Corina?”

“If I did not know better, I’d suggest labour pains—“

“Elves do not suffer labour pains, Midwife.”

Corina, the midwife, wrung her hands together hopelessly as she stared at the slim elf woman on the birthing mat. No longer clutching to the circular delivery chamber’s birthing pole, her hands now clutched her swollen belly as she screamed, a tormented wail pierced the late afternoon air.

First Elf Adaiyas leapt from his stool and took his wife’s hand in his, distressed by the sight of tears flowing down her bronze cheeks to mingle with sweat dampened blond hair. “Do something, Corina. Please.”

Experienced hands explored Filarna’s swollen belly. “Something is wrong, First Elf. The baby is not head-down but sideways. Your wife is fully dilated and attempting delivery, but as the baby cannot enter the birth canal, the contractions are causing her great pain.”

2) My edits

In this section, I tried to maintain the authors vocabulary choice. I moved phrases/words around, tightened, combined, and generally tried to create a nice blend of action and dialogue.

First half:

2nd half

3) Suggestions and explanations

In this section, I explain some of the major things I did to edit a piece:

The dialogue between Adaiyos and Corina needed tightening. I felt the way somethings were revealed was slow. IE: "Elves do not have labor pains". I also like to get peoples names out on the table quickly, and I don't like it done in dialogue.

-You'll notice that I cut some of the dialogue out of the original sequence. This, in my opinion, definitely helped the flow of the scene.

-the term "First Elf" felt too formal for this setting. And the scene itself felt like it was from the First Elf's POV.
This title can be established at a less intense scene perhaps.

-Also, through the edits I was able to drop the word count from 185 to 138.



4) Clean draft with Brandon's edits:

“She’s in pain!” cried Adaiyas. “How is this possible—Elves do not have labour pains?”

“I cannot explain it,” said Corina without looking at him.

Adaiyas tore his eyes from his wife and glared at the midwife. “It’s your job to explain it!”

Corina wrung her hands together hopelessly as she stared at the slim elf woman on the birthing mat. The woman clutched her swollen belly as she screamed.

Adaiyas leapt from his stool and took his wife’s hand in his. Tears traced down her bronze cheeks as she grimaced. “Do something, Corina. Please.”

Corina explored Filarna’s swollen belly with her hands. “It is the baby’s position..The child is not head-down but sideways. Your wife is fully dilated, but the baby cannot enter the birth canal, the contractions have it pinned. That is what’s causing the pain.”

Edit me Thursday #1

This is the first of what I hope to be many Edit me Thursday posts where I'll be editing one of your pages, or one of my own. To submit a one-page piece of your own writing email me at: bjbstories @ yahoo. com

About my editing style...I chip a lot, I tweak a lot, and I analyze everything to the Nth degree. So as with anybody’s edits they’re only suggestions, and they reflect my own writing style. I’ve had many occasions where someone suggests an edit that harmed the story rather than helped it. But hopefully the edits below make good sense.

When you finish looking over the changes I made to the entry below, let me know what you think? Did the edits help, or was it better off untouched? Or did you really like/dislike one particular edit I made? Let me know in a comment!

1) Draft sent to me
2) First edit
3) Second edit (with suggestions and explanations)
4) Clean draft with Brandon's edits

Draft sent to me:


  Fire ravaged the lands, bright persimmon oranges and mustard yellows, silently flickering in the weak morning light. The flames rose from the rubble like desperate fingers reaching up from the grave, grasping for another chance to cling to life. Thick black smoke poured from everything, from the ruins of the once magnificent Fiaj Hall to the tiny houses of the rural countryside of Foro, and when it was done rising it covered the ground with an ashen blanket.
  The bodies were broken and scattered in every way imaginable, almost as if some cruel artist positioned them thus. Children entombed in the protective embrace of their parents, dead with a whimper. Lovers melted together from the extreme heat of the bombs, dead with a sigh. Preachers crushed beneath their altars, dead with a prayer. Not a soul survived the destruction of the bombs.
  Life was not to be found in the small country of Morrta, but for the bacteria and the worms, and even they would not last long. The radiation would see to that, like it would ensure that the country would never live again.




First edit:

  Fire ravaged the lands, bright persimmon oranges and mustard yellows, silently flickering in the weak morning light. The flames rose from the rubble like desperate fingers reaching up from the a grave, grasping for another chance to cling to at life. Thick bBlack smoke poured from everything, from the ruins of the once magnificent Fiaj Hall to the tiny houses of the rural countryside of Foro, and when it was done rising it covered the ground with an ashen blanket.
  The bodies were broken and scattered in every way imaginable, almost as if some cruel artist positioned them thus. Children entombed in the protective embrace arms of their parents, dead with a whimper. Lovers melted together from the extreme heat of the bombs, dead with a sigh. Preachers crushed beneath their altars, dead with a prayer. Not a soul survived the destruction of the bombs.
  Life was not to be found in the small country of Morrta, but for the bacteria and the worms, and even they would not last long. The radiation would see to that., like [line break]
  iIt would ensure that the country would never live again.


Second edit (with suggestions and explanations in orange)


Fire ravaged the lands, bright persimmon oranges [the words "bright" and "persimmon" seem to summer-day-ish for the scene set here. Actually, "orange" also isn't menacing. Perhaps "twilight oranges" or "crimson reds" would work better. Or perhaps, "bloody persimmon oranges" ...one dark word can redeem the other two neutral words and bring them to the dark side. But still, "persimmon's" and "oranges" are fruits, and that combo might confuse the reader at first as to the image being painted. In the end, I'm thinking "crimson red".] and mustard yellows, silently flickering in the weak morning light[I try not to leave two adjectives back to back because they tend to break up the sentence flow and make it feel clunky...I only leave them when I feel they're absolutely necessary. That's why I deleted "weak". And below here I delete "Thick" for the same reason.] . The flames rose from the rubble like desperate fingers reaching up from the a grave, grasping for another chance to cling to at life. Thick bBlack smoke poured from everything, from the ruins of the once magnificent Fiaj Hall to the tiny houses of the rural countryside of Foro, and when it was done rising it covered the ground with an ashen blanket.

The bodies were broken and scattered in every way imaginable, almost as if some cruel artist positioned them thus.  [I've numbered the following three sentences. Each is a very powerful image, and well crafted. Unfortunately, one must be cut to maintain the poetic flow of the prose. In my "Brandon's draft below, I chose to keep the "Children" and the "Lovers" because they were more emotionally packed] (1)Children entombed in the protective embrace arms ["arms" is more powerful because of its simplicity. "protective embrace" creates distance because it's formal] of their parents, dead with a whimper. (2)Lovers melted together from the extreme heat of the bombs, dead with a sigh. (3)Preachers crushed beneath their altars, dead with a prayer. Not a soul survived the destruction of the bombs.

Life was not to be found in the small country of Morrta, but for the bacteria and the worms, and even they would not last long. The radiation would see to that., like [line break]

iIt would ensure that the country would never live again. (I felt moving this sentence to its own paragraph made a nice dramatic ending to the prologue and heightened the finish)




Clean draft with Brandon’s edits:

Fire ravaged the lands, crimson reds and mustard yellows, silently flickering in the morning light. The Flames rose from the rubble like desperate fingers from a grave, grasping for another chance at life. Black smoke poured from everything, from the ruins of the once magnificent Fiaj Hall to the tiny houses of the rural countryside of Foro, and when it was done rising it covered the ground with an ashen blanket.

The bodies were broken and scattered in every way imaginable, almost as if some cruel artist positioned them thus. Children entombed in the arms of their parents, dead with a whimper. Lovers melted together from the heat of the bombs, dead with a sigh. Not a soul survived the destruction of the bombs.

Life was not to be found in the country of Morrta, but for the bacteria and the worms, and even they would not last long. The radiation would see to that.

It would ensure that the country never live again.

Wise readers: what every author must have

Orson Scott Card, the great sci-fi author, was the man who introduced me to the importance of "wise readers". These individuals whom an author entrusts his manuscript to in order that they might catch something he did not.

Every author must have wise readers.

When selecting wise readers, it's good to have diversity. Spanning age, gender, and reading interests is helpful. A story that can appeal to a broader audience is going to have a much better chance at being published, and if it is published, will then have a better chance of selling well.

The wise readers you choose must be the types of people who can tell you flat out when something is not working. They must be ruthless in there (should be "their") desire to make your book the best it can be, and thus they read it with a scrutinous eye, combing for fallacies, plot holes, bad dialogue, false emotions, triteness and the like.

The warrior's (should be "warriors") in this comic are similar to the type of wise readers you are looking for. Fighters who will battle to make your story shine.

Now a quick shout out to my wise readers:

Amanda Barr! (Elite destroyer of misspellings)
Jacob Gomez! (Bearer of the youthful eye)
Doug Barr! (Wielder of the axe of error-corrections)
Jonathan Synnott! (Sage of literature, and bringer of truth)
Gary Redinger! (Stalwart of the books)


Going with the fantasy motif: May your wise readers speaketh (should be "speak") truth, and may you hideth not from it...