Writing for publication

[Peacock Lady 10]

I don't know how many of you are hoping to one day be published, or are all ready submitting: but as I've got some experience in publishing and being published, there are some things I have to say.

 

I've read some of the work that's been uploaded or posted here, and have not yet found a single piece that didn't need further work. Most have spelling mistakes, errors in context and grammar, haphazard punctuation, and are laid out in the most curious of ways.

 

The most obvious problems are confusing its and it's; they're/their/there; and your/you're. Then there's "must of", which is infuriating (for those that don't realise, it should be "must have").

 

I don't mean to be nasty to anyone: that's not my intention. If you're happy with your work and don't want to take it any further, that's fine. But if you DO want to publish, then these are things you have to correct.

 

If someone's feeling brave, post a short paragraph of your work below this (no more than 250 words should be fine), and I'll add comments to show what needs to be corrected. I'll only have a look at the first couple, though, as my typing-time is limited.

[Kaimani 10]

something already on the forum or some new piece of work? ps, it is what it is. if something needs more work then it needs more work. no two ways. as ong as the criticism is not gratuitously(pretty sure that spelling was wrong!) mean then it's all good. liked the critisism on the other piece i sent you some time back. thanks.

[Mantaspook 14]

Hi Peacock Lady, I’m feeling brave and would jump at the chance for an expert to examine some of my writing, here’s something I was working on last night, this is draft + one revision. Approx. 500 words.

 

Provisional title : The Witness box

 

“My Name is Catherine Swain, I am what you call a millennium baby, so no prizes for guessing that I’m 44 years old, I am a professor of History at Trinity College, University of Cambridge and I hope to go back to the year 1888”

 

“What interests you about that year Miss Swain?”

 

“Well, to be honest with you, I would have liked to have gone back 100 years to world war two, but I’ve been informed that civilians cannot go there…”

 

“That is correct, I’m afraid all wars and certain other events are off limits to non-military personnel.”

 

“Would you care to explain why?”

 

“Normally I’d be delighted to, however this is still a military program and some aspects are still classified. Please be under no illusions Miss Swain, the president may think its good PR to send a few historians back in time but frankly, you and the other ‘time-tourists’ are a drain on our resources – and if you don’t make the grade, you’ll be travelling back on a 402”

 

“What’s a 402?”

 

“It’s the bus that passes the main gate, Miss Swain”

 

The rest of the candidates laughed, Catherine blushed slightly but stared determinedly into the Wing Commanders eyes, forcing him to look away.

 

“When I have passed all your tests, sir, I will rewrite the manual on historical data retrieval, please be under no illusions, I have spoken to the president personally about this program, and may I remind you that your ‘resources’ are paid for by taxpayers money. Myself and the other tax paying ‘time tourists’ as you disparagingly refer to us, have a right to know what you are doing with ‘our’ money.”

 

That shook him, he’d heard a rumour that the president was considering sending a special observer but he didn’t realise that she was already here. He smiled insincerely.

 

“You didn’t answer my original question - why would you like to go back to 1888?”

 

“Well there are lots of historical events that I would like to visit, but due to your restrictions…”

 

“All will become clear as the course progresses..."

 

“I’m sure it will, Wing Commander, well I’d like to go back to a quiet backwater that hasn’t been visited yet, 1888 and the location would be the town of Arles in France…”

 

She trailed off, expecting someone to put two and two together, as the heavy silence grew longer she realised she was dealing with philistines “Oh for Gods sake! It’s obvious! Vincent Van Gogh!”

 

The Wing Commander nodded thoughtfully, “An interesting choice Miss Swain” then to his assistant “Any conflicting tracks?”

 

“None sir.”

 

He cursed under his breath, she had obviously done her homework and there was no technical reason why her request could be refused, he just had to hope that she wouldn’t pass the exams.

 

“1888 it is then, welcome aboard Miss Swain”

 

<End of chapter 1.>

[Peacock Lady 10]

Well done, Mantaspook, for volunteering.

 

The first thing I notice (which you flagged, so you were aware of this before you posted it), is the length. I asked for short extracts no longer than 250 words and this is, according to Word, 479 words long (there are other more accurate ways to establish the word count, but even I am not usually pedantic enough to bother with them). If this was a submission to a magazine, you’d have blown your chances right there, without even getting your piece read. It’s vitally important to read and comply with all guidelines provided.

 

On with the editing. My comments appear in square brackets throughout the original text. As I know Manta is tough and hard, I’m not going to pull any punches here. So apologies in advance, Manta, if this seems harsh: but if you want to be published, you have to get these things right.

 

 

 

The Witness box

 

“My Name is Catherine Swain, I am what you call a millennium baby, so no prizes for guessing that I’m 44 years old, I am a professor of History at Trinity College, University of Cambridge and I hope to go back to the year 1888”

 

[Why is the “n” in “name” capitalised? Punctuation is all over the place: some of those commas should be stops, and the errors lead to misconceptions. As it is, it states that as she’s a millennium baby there are no prizes for guessing that she’s a professor of history, which is clearly nonsensical. And where’s the final stop before the closing quote marks? These sorts of mistakes alone would also get you rejected before the end of the first page. “I’m what you call” is a cliché; so is “millennium baby”; do you think that your history professor from the future would speak in clichés which are commonplace today?]

 

“What interests you about that year Miss Swain?”

 

[comma after “year”]

 

“Well, to be honest with you, I would have liked to have gone back 100 years to world war two, but I’ve been informed that civilians cannot go there…”

 

[“To be honest with you” is another cliché. World War Two, or World War II; stating that WWII was 100 years ago is too much exposition for me. I’d show this more subtly if possible; and why the ellipsis? Seems to me she’s been interrupted, in which case an em-dash is more appropriate. Ellipses are used to indicate speech trailing away, not ending abruptly. “Cannot” is very formal for speech, too: very few people use it. “Can’t” might be better, unless this ties in with some plot event or characterisation issue later.]

 

“That is correct, I’m afraid all wars and certain other events are off limits to non-military personnel.”

 

[“That’s correct” is far more natural in speech than “That is correct”—if this is characterisation, it’s not clear enough. And that’s pretty dull speech, which is not entirely necessary as Miss Swain has all ready told us that civilians can’t go there.]

 

“Would you care to explain why?”

 

[Very formal, very dull. You should be getting Swain’s character across far more clearly by now, instead of wasting time discussing something we all ready know.]

 

“Normally I’d be delighted to, however this is still a military program and some aspects are still classified. Please be under no illusions Miss Swain, the president may think its good PR to send a few historians back in time but frankly, you and the other ‘time-tourists’ are a drain on our resources – and if you don’t make the grade, you’ll be travelling back on a 402”

 

[Watch your punctuation again: “Normally I’d be delighted to: however, this is still a military program and some aspects are still classified. Please be under no illusions, Miss Swain, the president may think it’s good PR to send a few historians back in time but frankly you and the other ‘time-tourists’ are a drain on our resources – and if you don’t make the grade, you’ll be travelling back on a 402.” While I’ve improved the punctuation, the dialogue is stilted and neutral: you’re missing another chance to advance your character.]

 

“What’s a 402?”

 

“It’s the bus that passes the main gate, Miss Swain”

 

[Nice joke, but a shame you missed off that final stop. It’s also uncharacteristic, given how stilted he’s been up to now.]

 

The rest of the candidates laughed, Catherine blushed slightly but stared determinedly into the Wing Commanders eyes, forcing him to look away.

 

[Punctuation again! And it’s still stilted. If you got rid of your modifiers here you’d strengthen the whole sentence. Try this: “The rest of the candidates laughed. Catherine blushed but stared at the Wing Commander until he looked away.” Not perfect, but more pacy. I’d also run this on from the previous line of dialogue.]

 

“When I have passed all your tests, sir, I will rewrite the manual on historical data retrieval, please be under no illusions, I have spoken to the president personally about this program, and may I remind you that your ‘resources’ are paid for by taxpayers money. Myself and the other tax paying ‘time tourists’ as you disparagingly refer to us, have a right to know what you are doing with ‘our’ money.”

 

[First off: check the punctuation. I’m not going to flag this any more, as it’s your job and not mine. What’s with “please be under no illusions”? The Wing Commander said it, now Swain’s said it. Either one or the other should use the phrase, but not both of them. And the dialogue is still far too formal, even for a formal setting.]

 

That shook him, he’d heard a rumour that the president was considering sending a special observer but he didn’t realise that she was already here. He smiled insincerely.

 

[“President” should be capitalised if they’ve only got one. There’s another weak modifier there (“insincerely”). And the bit about the special observer is info-dumping which could have been done far more subtly.]

 

“You didn’t answer my original question - why would you like to go back to 1888?”

 

[Earlier you used an en-dash, now you’re using a hyphen. Most publications prefer em-dashes, but which ever dash you choose to use, they mustn’t be hyphens and you must be consistent with them!]

 

“Well there are lots of historical events that I would like to visit, but due to your restrictions…”

 

“All will become clear as the course progresses..."

 

[Em-dashes would be better than those ellipses, I think. Otherwise it reads as though they’re both trailing off, rather than interrupting each other.]

 

“I’m sure it will, Wing Commander, well I’d like to go back to a quiet backwater that hasn’t been visited yet, 1888 and the location would be the town of Arles in France…”

 

[“Quiet backwater”. You know that’s a cliché, right? Clichés are fine if used in dialogue or first person narration to help advance a character, but otherwise it anchors your work in the commonplace. We all ready know she wants to go back to1888, so there’s no need to point that out again; and “and the location would be the town of Arles in France” is both long-winded AND cliché-ridden.]

 

She trailed off, expecting someone to put two and two together, as the heavy silence grew longer she realised she was dealing with philistines “Oh for Gods sake! It’s obvious! Vincent Van Gogh!”

 

[We know she trailed off: that’s what the ellipsis is for; “put two and two together”, “heavy silence grew longer”, and “dealing with philistines” are, as you know, all clichés and I’m not going to say anything more about that; and I’m not going to talk any more about your punctuation, but I’d put an apostrophe in “God’s”.]

 

The Wing Commander nodded thoughtfully, “An interesting choice Miss Swain” then to his assistant “Any conflicting tracks?”

 

[Punctuation.]

 

“None sir.”

 

[Amazingly, you managed to make an error in a sentence of only two words! There should be a comma in the middle there.]

 

He cursed under his breath, she had obviously done her homework and there was no technical reason why her request could be refused, he just had to hope that she wouldn’t pass the exams.

 

[Punctuation. Clichés. Pedestrian phrasing.]

 

“1888 it is then, welcome aboard Miss Swain”

 

[Punctuation. I’ll do this for you one last time: “1888 it is, then. Welcome aboard, Miss Swain.”]

 

 

 

What would be useful is if you could make all those changes, do your best to strip out the cliches, weak modifiers and bits of passive dialogue, and repost it so everyone can see what the effect is. If you're not hiding under the bed by now and weeping.

[Hopman 46]

Hi Peacock Lady,

My extract comes from a longer piece which some may have already read in its fuller form. I've included the first three paragraphs (with some reduction to achieve the stipulated word count).

Bernard's Drum Roll.

 

Bernard's fingers wrapped tightly around the wooden drumsticks as he waited for his cue to start the drum roll. Alongside him there were five other men in their early twenties, all poised for action; their snare drums hanging in front with the straps biting into their shoulders through their coarse, sweat-stained white shirts. It was a warm afternoon in July with the hot sun bouncing off the cobblestones and baking their faces.

 

The square was mass of humanity, but in the centre was a clearing. Here stood a wooden scaffold some four foot high to the platform where two men waited. In the middle of the platform, Bernard's handiwork, a wooden construction, formed the focal point of the crowd's attention. Two tall wooden arms reached towards the heavens in supplication; between them the sun reflected off a polished steel blade, its edge cut on the diagonal, aiming down at whoever had been chosen as the next victim to lie with Madame Guillotine.

 

Bernard's gaze was towards a large breasted woman in her mid twenties leaning out of one of the windows in the houses lining the square. The other drummers began to beat out a tattoo. Bernard put any thoughts of the woman to one side and hastily joined in. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a donkey drawn tumbrel clattering across the cobbles of the square as it carried four people under guard to the foot of the scaffold.

 

[Peacock Lady 10]

246 words—well done!

 

 

Para one:

 

I’d put that last sentence first, as at the moment that first para is slightly chaotic and I think you’ll get a better lead-in.

 

Cut “to start the drum roll” as that’s not necessary: you know they’re waiting for their cue, and they’re obviously drummers.

 

“Poised for action” and “straps biting into” are clichés, so ditch them; and I’m not sure about “Alongside him”, as that’s a bit pompous.

 

“Coarse, sweat-stained white shirts” is far too much: one modifier only please, two at the most.

 

Punctuation lapses after “poised for action”: use a comma instead of the semi-colon, put another in instead of “with”.

 

The sun can’t bounce off the cobblestones, but the heat and light from it can, so re-word that.

 

 

Para two:

 

Clichés: mass of humanity, here stood, the focal point, reached towards the heavens whoever had been chosen, next victim. I’d rephrase all of those.

 

“Clearing” implies a space in trees to me, so it jars a little. “Some four foot high” is clumsy and I think you can do better. Is the platform or the wooden construction Bernard’s handiwork? It’s not clear. “In supplication” is a bit pompous and doesn’t fit in with the rest of it.

 

Again, sun doesn’t reflect, but the light of it does.

 

 

Para three:

 

Clichés: large breasted woman, houses lining the square, beat out a tattoo, put any thoughts … to one side, hastily joined in, out of the corner of his eye.

 

“A large breasted woman” means a large woman with breasts. I think you meant “a large-breasted woman”! You’re very concerned about placing people in the right point in their twenties: why not just say a young woman? If her age is significant, that can be shown at another time.

 

I don’t know what a tumbrel is, and I suspect few people will. I can make an educated guess by looking at the context, but you might like to clarify this. And if it’s pulled by a donkey it should read “donkey-drawn”.

 

Overall, though, interesting. Will you rewrite it, post it again, and tell me how you think the two versions compare?

[seriessix 10]

Over 250 - but close...

 

My husband has been working two part time jobs recently. He gets in at about one in the afternoon from one job and then heads off again about four thirty to the other. Yesterday afternoon I heard him unlocking the door and thought it would be fun if I surprised him, so I hid inside the cupboard in the living room. After he got in he called out for me, I sat in the dark cupboard and said nothing. Almost at that very moment a strange feeling came over me, I had deceived my husband, I had lied. I watched though the crack in the door as he took his coat off and sat down on the sofa to read the paper. I considered revealing myself but was afraid that it may give him too much of a fright. Time passed slowly, the longer I hid the bigger the deception was. I watched in silence as he turned the pages of the paper, I began to worry that he'd hear the sound of my breathing. After about an hour I began to feel very uncomfortable but dare not move in case he heard me.

 

After he'd finished the paper he switched on the TV, the sound allowed me to move a little and I managed to alleviate some of the stiffness in my legs. As he dozed I listened to the clock on the mantle piece tick. Did he know I was there? I had got quite cold by 3'o'clock and was also hungry, however I stayed stock still in the dark cupboard. An hour or so later he got up to prepare himself for work. He left the room to go upstairs but I thought I'd best wait till he left. At 4.20 he came back into the room to get his keys and coat, five minutes later he was gone. I carefully climbed out of the cupboard and closed its doors and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

[Peacock Lady 10]

seriessix: 333 words. Not close at all to 250: it’s 33% longer than it should be. Bang: you’re rejected.

 

Nevertheless I’ll give you a quick opinion. No more, though, after this.

 

 

The first two sentences of para one are not relevant: they can be deleted without detracting anything.

 

You’re using commas wrongly: “After he got in he called out for me, I sat in the dark cupboard and said nothing.” And, “Almost at that very moment a strange feeling came over me, I had deceived my husband, I had lied.” First should be a stop; second a colon or stop, third a semi-colon (could perhaps be left as a comma but it’s not good).

 

Your cliché-count isn’t too high, but there are some.

 

Have you ever heard the phrase "show, don't tell"? Because almost all of this is "tell" and so your reader is left with nothing to do in the text: nothing to figure out for himself, and therefore no involvement or sense of ownership with it either. You must address this: it'll bring your writing alive.

 

There’s very little in the way of plot or characterisation here. Wouldn’t the woman in the cupboard have some sort of ongoing feeling about how she’s deceived her husband? Wouldn’t she worry how he might react? Why did she decide to do this? It’s not enough to say she thought it would surprise him: we need to know why she’s bonkers enough to think that it would be a good surprise, what happened to her today to make her decide to do this, or what it is in their relationship that makes her play tricks on him like this. I know it’s hard in a short extract, but there’s not even a hint of the necessary backstory here.

 

With something like this, which recounts an ordinary person doing something extraordinary, I usually feel a little frisson of interest: but I found this piece very flat, despite the peculiar subject. It is not enough to recount a string of peculiar events and hope that together they’ll add up to an engaging story: you need your readers to empathise with your characters, and to be interested in their lives, and I’m afraid that I don’t care about either of them.

 

If you can rewrite this and add a little feeling to it, and make it more alive, I'd be happy to read it. But you really do need to make a lot of changes to your writing style if you want to publish anything.

[scribe 10]

Thank you for your time.

 

Edward sat motionless on the leather fireside chair, it had seen better days but it offered comfort at a time when he needed it most. Sat either side of him snuggling hard against their father were his young children Emma & Peter, Edwards protective arms stretched around them , all three staring deep into the yellow and blue flames of the study room fire that roared fiercely inside a deep stone hearth.

 

Black-out Blankets draped across each of the two large study room picture widows, nothing but silence. Darkness and stretched silhouettes from the fire arched high against the back wall and on to the ceiling, only crackling of burning wood interrupted Edwards’s thoughts.

 

 

This was the room where he had proposed to his late wife Martha, it was also

the room were he had paced around for hours on end the night his children were born, two minuets separating them making Peter the elder twin.. There had been so much love and laughter in this room but now it held nothing but sadness . The household staff had already been dismissed along with a generous severance pay and an assurance from Edward that when the war was over they would all return to resume their post, only Mrs Peat was to stay on, she had no family to speak of and nowhere else to go, Edward was only to happy for Mrs Peat to stay at the house while ever she could .

[Mantaspook 14]

Just after I posted the original I read through it and thought it contained too many commas and the punctuation could have been better.

 

I agree with you assessment. My reasoning behind why Catherine repeated the “under no illusions” phrase is that my original intention was she was doing it in an aggressive, sarcastic manner. I don’t think I emphasised that enough.

 

When I wrote the “None sir” line I didn’t put a comma in because I didn’t hear one,– it was an instant military response to a superior officer. Maybe I should have written “None sir!” he snapped.

 

Many thanks for your assessment Peacock Lady, I know you are extremely busy and we all appreciate you taking the time to give your feedback. I also found an old photo album under the bed when I was hiding there.

 

Here is an updated version, modified as per your suggestions, it’s definitely less ‘clunky’, I think it still needs a little more pace and the characters need a little more depth but that’s what the next revision will address.

 

Once again, many thanks.

 

The Witness Box – Version 2

 

“My name is Catherine Swain; I was born in the year 2000, so no prizes for guessing that I’m 44 years old. I am a professor of History at Trinity College, and I hope to go back to the year 1888.”

 

“What interests you about that year, Miss Swain?”

 

“Well, sir, my first choice would have been 1944, but I’ve been informed that civilians can’t go there –”

 

“That’s correct, I’m afraid that all wars and certain other events are off limits -“

 

“But we haven’t been told why-”

 

The Wing Commander smiled “Need to know. This is still a military program and certain aspects are still classified.”

 

“But its our lives we’re risking to gather this data-”

 

“You’re under no obligation Miss Swain. You can walk away at any time”

 

“And miss the opportunity of a lifetime?”

 

“Your lifetime, my resources. The President may think its good PR to send a few historians back in time but frankly, if you and the other ‘time-tourists’ don’t make the grade, the only thing you’ll be travelling on is a 402.”

 

Catherine looked puzzled. “What’s a 402?”

 

“That’s the bus that passes the main gate, Miss Swain.”

 

The rest of the candidates laughed. Catherine blushed but continued to look straight at him; his smile vanished as she spoke.

 

“When I have passed all your tests, sir, I will be reporting back to the President directly. I may only be a ‘time tourist’ but I’m also a taxpayer and it’s our money that pays for this program.”

 

The Wing Commander smiled to mask his discomfit, “Damn she’s here” he thought, he’d been expecting a man. “You didn’t answer my original question; why would you like to go back to 1888?”

 

“The reason I chose that year was because I want to visit one of the greatest painters that ever lived, you may be familiar with his sunflowers…” She trailed off, but he didn’t make the connection.

 

“And who would that be?”

 

“Vincent Van Gogh.” she sighed.

 

The Wing Commander nodded in a thoughtful manner. He then showed his ignorance of the subject with his next question. “The Dutch chap who lopped his ear off? So you want to go to Holland?”

 

“No, I want to go to Arles in France!” she replied, adding petulantly “And he only chopped part of his ear off!”

 

The Wing Commander smiled at her outburst. “An interesting choice, Miss Swain.” He turned to his assistant and asked: “Any conflicting tracks?”

 

“None, sir.”

 

He cursed under his breath; there was no technical reason why her request could be refused. But then, perhaps she wouldn’t pass the exams. He could fix that.

 

“1888 it is, then. Welcome aboard, Miss Swain.”

 

<End chapter 1.>

[Hopman 46]

Hi Peacock Lady,

Thank you for your time. I've gone through the original and made a few changes. The modified version is more concise (it's about 30% shorter) and I think it is an improvement. Certainly some elements of the original which needed to be there are still there.

So here is the modified version:

Bernard's Drum Roll.

 

It was a warm afternoon in July with the sun’s heat bouncing off the cobblestones and baking the faces of the line of six drummers in their twenties. Bernard's sweaty fingers gripped the wooden drumsticks as he waited for his cue.

 

The square was crowded except for the centre where a sturdy wooden platform had been erected. Two men stood there looking at the crowd who stared at the middle of the platform, where Bernard's handiwork, a wooden construction stood. Two tall wooden arms pointed skywards; between them the sunlight reflected off a polished steel blade, its edge cut on the diagonal, aiming down at whoever had been chosen to lie with Madame Guillotine.

 

Bernard's gaze was towards a young woman leaning out of one of the windows overlooking the square. The drumming began. Bernard put aside any thoughts of the woman and hastily joined in. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a donkey-drawn cart clattering across the cobbles as it carried four people under guard to the foot of the scaffold.

[Kaimani 10]

working on my dialogue and panctuation. hope it's not totally crap.

 

 

“If I buy something, will you talk to me then?” This was a guy who shopped in bulk because crowds, especially queues, made him down right queasy. He didn’t mind people behind him, just didn’t like knowing they were there. Watched concerts on pay per view to avoid that.

“No less than ten bucks to use a card.” The Lord of the Till declared. The subject, knowing his place, bit his teeth and asked for phone credit.

“Thank you. Type your pin number, please…Sir.”

Two

“Seen her?”

“What she looks like again?”

“A…”

“Number…please.”

Four.

“Six two, red head, average build, had a yellow vest with a sheep on it, brown corduroy jeans, flip-flops an-.”

“Number, please…Sir.”

Two

“Five eleven?”

“Six two. Freckles on her should-.”

“I wouldn’t have seen that… sir. I am not one to look at ladies’ shoulders. Number”

Four.

“Who said anythi-?”

“Freckles on her shoulders.”

“You wanted to know what she looks like.”

“Are you going o tell me about the tattoo on he-.”

“What tattoo? Did you see her or-.”

“That’ll be eleven twenty-five. Want a bag with that...sir?”

“No, no bag. Have you seen her?”

“No. Oh, sorry, sir, your card’s been rejected.”

“What?”

“Your…”

“I heard you. Why?”

“Tone, please….Sir…You’ll have to talk to your bank… Sir.”

The card was in two halves faster than you can say ‘I hear thunder, I hear thunder, why, don’t you?’ The Lord Of-Cutting-Cards-In-Half-With-A-Special-Red-And-White-Scissors stood with his security button finger at the ready.