There are myriads of ways to cut back on your word count. I know this because I had to cut 20,000 words out of The Green Veil at one point. Besides getting rid of passive voice, excessive adverbs, and so on (which, in some instances, actually cause you to add to the word count by forcing you to do more showing and less telling) there is a smaller, but very effective way to eliminate hundreds -- maybe even thousands -- of words from your manuscript.
Get rid of excess attribution.
While you're at it, get rid of any unnecessary wording that points out how a character feels, or looks.
Back in the day, I learned that using he said /she said was the acceptable form of attribution to use. You never used "she squealed" or "he guffawed" when referring to speaking. Editors would say, "You can't guffaw a sentence." But now even the unassuming said is becoming out of vogue, and for good reason. Attribution eats up precious word space, while at the same time removing the reader from the immediacy of deep point of view.
Instead of a long conversation full of who said what, writers are expected to write with voice and style that keep character conversation flowing in such a way that the reader can keep track of who is speaking simply by the characters' distinct voices and the interspersing of beats which show movement, thoughts, feelings, and so on.
Take a look at this portion of a scene from my WIP and notice that I never once use words of attribution like said. Yet you can tell by the flow and beats exactly who is speaking and also sense the emotion or movement in the scene, however slight:
He glanced at her, his eyes as dark and inviting as the cocoa in their drinks.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because I like to."
She took a long sip from her mug, closing her eyes behind the steam, absorbing the sweet aroma.
"Do you ever think of going there?"
"To school?" She set down her mug and harrumphed. "Why would I?"
"Didn't you think about it when you were with that fellow?"
"With...oh, you mean Clayton." She shook her head. "It never occurred to me to go to school. I thought that once I married Clay, I'd just be..." she shrugged, "you know... his wife."
"Seems like a great way to start over."
She gazed over at the school again, wondering for the first time about what went on inside its brick-walled classrooms. When she looked back, Jamie studied her.
"You're still staring. But now you have something else going on. I can see it churning around up there in that head of yours." That dark, handsome head.
"Your mother tells me that you like to teach children."
"In Sunday school? Yes, I guess that's true. I like telling them stories and helping them learn. I like to do fun, creative things with them."
"Maybe God wants you to do more than that."
She straightened her shoulders. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe you should become a teacher."
Cori leaned forward. She didn't answer right at first. Jamie's suggestion had both startled and thrilled her at once. A teacher.
"I -- I don't think I could."
"Why not? Don't they have a Normal School there?"
"I just..."
"A friend of mine who teaches in Eau Claire tells me there are only two in the state." He nodded at the university across the street. "Here you have one of them in your back yard."
Suddenly Jamie leaned forward, too, and cupped his big hands over hers around her mug."You're smart, Cori. You want something more than waiting under your parents' wings for a husband to come along."
His touch sent a bolt charging through her, but in the next instant it dissolved. Had she started to think of him beyond what she should? It seemed that he was about to squelch those thoughts.
She frowned. "You barely know me. What makes you think I could handle Normal School, or that I'd even want to? And what's so bad about wanting to marry?" She flushed. It hadn't come out sounding like she'd hoped.
He squeezed her hands. "There's nothing bad about it." His dimples winked at her. "But I think you want something else besides."
Now, what if I had followed the compulsion to include attribution? It would have made for a lot of unnecessary telling and had the effect of pulling readers out of the scene, reminding them that they're peering in on a book instead of encouraging them to live vicariously through the characters themselves. (In the following example I also popped in some other telling words, just to give you a basis of comparison for how much better it is when they're not included. The beats are still there, though when lots of attribution is used, the tendency is to rely on telling and exclude interesting beats.) Take a look:
He glanced at her. His eyes looked as dark and inviting as the cocoa in their drinks.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Cori asked.
"Because I like to."
She took a long sip from her mug, closing her eyes behind the steam, absorbing the sweet aroma.
"Do you ever think of going there?" he said suddenly, disrupting her daydream.
"To school?" She set down her mug and harrumphed. "Why would I?" she wanted to know.
"Didn't you think about it when you were with that fellow?"
"With...oh, you mean Clayton," she said. She shook her head. "It never occurred to me to go to school. I thought that once I married Clay, I'd just be..." she shrugged, "you know...his wife."
"Seems like a great way to start over," Jamie pointed out.
She gazed over at the school again, wondering for the first time about what went on inside its brick-walled classrooms. When she looked back, Jamie studied her.
"You're still staring," she said. "But now you have something else going on. I can see it churning around up there in that head of yours."
That dark, handsome head.Cori thoughtabout how dark and handsome he looked."Your mother tells me that you like to teach children," said Jamie.
"In Sunday school? Yes, I guess that's true. I like telling them stories and helping them learn. I like to do fun, creative things with them," she added.
"Maybe God wants you to do more than that."
She straightened her shoulders. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"Maybe you should become a teacher," he suggested.
Cori leaned forward. She didn't answer right at first. Jamie's suggestion had both startled and thrilled her at once. A teacher.
"I -- I don't think I could."
"Why not?" he asked. "Don't they have a Normal School there?"
"I just..." She didn't know what to say.
"A friend of mine who teaches in Eau Claire tells me there are only two in the state." He nodded at the university across the street. "Here you have one of them in your back yard."
Suddenly Jamie leaned forward, too, and cupped his big hands over hers around her mug."You're smart, Cori," he said."You want something more than waiting under your parents' wings for a husband to come along."
His touch sent a bolt charging through her, but in the next instant it dissolved. She wondered, had she started to think of him beyond what she should? It seemed that he was about to squelch those thoughts.
She frowned. "You barely know me. What makes you think I could handle Normal School, or that I'd even want to? And what's so bad about wanting to marry?" Cori asked. She flushed. It hadn't come out sounding like she'd hoped.
He squeezed her hands. "There's nothing bad about it," he answered. His dimples winked at her. "But I think you want something else besides."
Just look at all the unnecessary words, about 50 of them! There's not a one of them that improves the scene by being there. Beats are where it's at -- body movements, inner thoughts, character expressions, sighs. A little action is worth a load of attribution and moves us into the character's being.
Also, it's exceptionally easy to use beats when writing an action scene. A good fight, for example, with fists flying and guys stumbling in the dirt, make for some exciting beats. But I chose to use this scene as an example because the couple is merely sitting together, enjoying cocoa and conversation. It proves that even in quiet scenes like this, beats can be easily moved in for show instead of tell.
Write on!
No comments:
Post a Comment