Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Line editing -- if I haven't gotten to yours--

If you posted a short passage for line editing (please no new ones-- I'm way behind on everything :) and I haven't gotten to it, and you still-- after reading the others-- want me to look at it, please post here. Rules:
4 sentences
Best if not the first 4 sentences, but if you post your book opening, I'm going to evaluate it as non-opening, just a line-edit.
Understand that this is YOUR job-- I seriously doubt I delve this far in when I edit. That is, if you expect an editor to do this for your whole book, you'll be disappointed. There is not world enough and time. You can do it, however. I'm just giving an example.

Repost here, please.

Leona, I have yours, so you don't need to repost.



Sylvia said...

Mine was towards the bottom of the pile I think, but if you are happy to continue, I'm still intrigued to see what you do with this passage. Not an opening. I posted 6 sentences (you hadn't put a limit at that point) but this is now only 4. The context is that Tyrae (MC) has entered his mother's quarters where she is sitting in the hollow of a large rock.

[His father] had discovered it on the rocky beach of one of the far islands and immediately proclaimed it the perfect gift for his queen. It took over a dozen men to bring back to the Sithein and when she saw it, she declared that it was the perfect chair, declining even the thinnest pillow. A thick double layer of wool was wrapped around her waist and then pulled around the back and over her shoulder to tuck in at her waist. She claimed it was to ward off the cold damp of the Sithein but Tyrae suspected it was to cushion herself from the hard stone of her "perfect" seat.

Sylvia said...

*bites lip*

...bring it back, not bring back.

Kathleen MacIver said...

Thanks for asking us to do this! You've almost got to mine on both lists! Here's mine again, slightly re-worked: (No, it's not an opening, though it is in my first scene. She's just watched a dragon materialize over a man who is lying in the street.)

Gianna pulled her cloak around herself more tightly and rubbed her eyes. Casualties were nothing new in Jarentho, but dragons that seemed to shimmer in the cold winter air were another matter completely. They no longer existed, except in fairy tales she could barely remember. True, this one's scales glistened with iridescent colors, just as those in the stories, but that didn't mean anything. Besides, people were walking through its body as though it didn't exist.

Jordan said...

I really vacillated over whether to post this in the first place, and then whether to delete the comment, but I'm here reposting it now.

set up: Molly's priest was murdered at the church three weeks ago. Father O'Leary, the new priest (*wink*wink* if you remember log line #1), has just arrived and Molly is showing him from the church to the rectory. (Side note: Originally from Dublin, Molly immigrated to Chicago with her family five years ago.)

The four sentences:
How must the buildings that were so familiar she hardly noticed them look to Father O'Leary? Three years ago, she compared the Gothic chapel, its stone facade flanked by blazing maples in a carpet of lawn, to her parents' church in city center. At the time, St. Adelaide seemed a suburban oasis; three weeks ago she was disabused of that notion.

"I'm sure it'll get to feelin' like home soon enough," she murmured.
Thanks! I've enjoyed reading all the examples.

Patience-please said...

This is not a request for a line edit, just a belated thank you for taking mine on.

I was away when you edited my four sentences. (No computer? No. My sister has end stage ovarian cancer. I was visiting. No computer.)

I posted a thank you in the comments, but I did want to be sure you saw it. Your edits were very helpful, as is this whole blog.

Thank you!


Leona said...

This is a bit off topic. I follow your blog. On my list of new posts is one from you, but when I click on it, it says page doesn't exist. When I go to your blog, it's not there.

For what it's worth, I think it's exciting to be publishing in Japanese. :)(Which is about how much I can read in the intro blurb on my dashboard.)

Marie Yrastorza said...

Great, now I'm nearer to the top of the pile:

“You didn’t even come to his funeral,” I whispered, my voice breaking as I remembered, “I needed you there Tommy, I needed you.”
“Don’t you make me feel guilty Hunter,” Tommy muttered, “I can’t take any more guilt.” I flinched away from the harshness in his voice. His glinting eyes, which had been as soft as gray velvet a moment ago, transformed so fast that it made it me uneasy.

ana said...

I had a paragraph in the mix, but I found a different line I would like to go over. It is one heck of a long sentence.

He attended the University on a football scholarship. when he realized that he didn’t intend to make a living as a wanna-be football player for the rest of his life, he changed his program from under water basket weaving to the MBA program, and started a successful business in computer consulting.

Casey Something said...

You didn't get to mine (I was toward the bottom) but I won't re-post again. I think you've covered everything you could possibly tell me about my four in other edits.

Thanks so much!

Edittorrent said...

I haven't a clue, Leona! It's all incomprehensible to me. I can type, but that's about it. :)

Patience, I'm sorry about your sister. It must be a really difficult time for you to concentrate.


Robin Lemke said...

Thank you - mine was toward the end and was too long, I'm reposting with just four sentences.

This is for a YA suspense. These four lines come after Oliver, the POV character hears the song Lili Marlene sung to the girl he’s with.

I felt overwhelmed -- emotionally, experientially. I didn’t know what to do next, so I just looked at her face. It was the perfect song for her, I realized. She did have a sweet, haunting sort of face -- a face for shadows, for standing under lamp posts and casting spells with her eyes, spells that could follow a man across an ocean, or across a dream.

Rachel Lorber said...

Thank you so much. This is a paragraph I've been having a lot of difficulty with.

Fog drenched the bridge in luminous light. The white mist rose from the choppy blue water below to float around the red steel of the Golden Gate Bridge, where it lingered to catch the lamplight. I stared out the window in awe, trying to see the city beyond the fog. I could only make out the dark outlines of skyscrapers and apartments, taller than anything I’d ever seen before, taller even then the Iron Towers.