Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Boiling into Space

This week's boiling is an excerpt from Space in the Heart by Rodney Walther, author of the acclaimed and bestselling and most excellent Broken Laces, a tale of grief and loss and baseball. His fiction is orthogonal to mine; while I tend toward horror, sci-fi, and fantasy thrillers, Rodney tends toward realistic, emotional dramas. But dammit, he's got a heck of a voice, and I can't help but recommend his work.

I met Rodney on the ABNA forums several years ago, and he's one of the most gracious, delightful people I've met online. Let's see what we can do with his 429-word offering.

The Original:

Garrison Sterling ran a gloved hand along the surface of the four-foot rocket model, feeling for spurs and cracks. He’d been working on it for more than a month, and everything needed to be perfect before he delivered it to the science museum in Waco. Illuminating the gleaming white surface of the orbiter with his flashlight, Garrison considered how truly beautiful the space shuttle was.

Just one flight, he thought, for probably the millionth time since he received his acceptance letter from NASA. Just one flight into the dark expanse of space, one chance to experience the rumbling liftoff from a launch pad, to circle the planet and gaze down on her continents and oceans, to float weightless. But that one flight had never been in the cards for him.

He examined the silvery, ribbed surface of the main engine thrusters, slightly wiggling them to make sure they’d hold up to minor bumps. He confirmed the position of every decal and the color of every painted line, because he knew that details mattered. And then, as he always did for every handmade model of the space shuttle, he inspected the grey-tipped delta wing of the orbiter, lightly running his fingers along its leading edge as if checking for foam insulation damage.

In the quiet of his workshop, surrounded by spray paint cans of every imaginable color, organization bins for PVC pipe fittings, and a movie poster of Apollo 13 on the wall, Garrison paused to remember his friends.

He’d worked with them all, of course. The American public didn’t know the crew’s names—Husband, McCool, Anderson, Ramon, Chawla, Brown, and Clark—until they perished in the sky over East Texas, but Garrison had long known them on a first-name basis. Because he’d trained with them. Because he’d originally been slated to fly with them.

A drop of sweat fell from the tip of his nose and landed on the orbiter’s payload bay doors. He quickly wiped it off and blew on the shuttle’s surface. This was not the time for mistakes.

His cell phone buzzed, and then Elton John’s Rocket Man filled the silence. Garrison fished the phone from his pocket.

“Mister Garrison?” the female voice asked.

“It’s Mister Sterling. Garrison’s my first name.”

“Oh.”

After an awkward pause, he said, “Can I help you?”

“You’re the Mister Garrison with the telescope?”

He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. “Garrison’s my first name,” he repeated. “Last name’s Sterling. And yes, I have a telescope out at my weekend ranch. I’m sorry, ma’am, but what do you want?”

The Condensation:

Garrison Sterling ran a gloved hand along the surface of the four-foot rocket model, feeling for spurs and cracks. He’d been working on it for more than a month, and everything needed to be perfect before he delivered it to the science museum in Waco. Illuminating the gleaming white surface of the orbiter with his flashlight, Garrison considered how truly beautiful the space shuttle was.

Gloves go over hands, so "a gloved hand" = his glove". As you can only touch the surface of objects, "the surface of" can boil out.

In the second sentence, we can combine the clauses and thus boil it down to about half its original length, and "he delivered it" can boil down to "delivery".

"The [feature] of the [object]" can almost always boil down to "the [object]'s [feature]." But in this case, we've got a repeat of "surface". A flashlight isn't going to illuminate the subsurface, so we can boil it out again.

I'm not in love with the last line of this paragraph. First, as readers of this blog will know, I'm "was"-adverse. Second, I'm also adverb-adverse; in this case, "beautiful" is a strong enough word, though "stunning" or "awe-inspiring" might be even better, and any of the above can stand on its own without adverbial clutter.

Garrison Sterling ran his glove along the four-foot rocket model, feeling for spurs and cracks. His month's work needed to be perfect before delivery to the science museum in Waco. Illuminating the gleaming white orbiter with his flashlight, Garrison considered the space shuttle's stunning beauty.

Just one flight, he thought, for probably the millionth time since he received his acceptance letter from NASA. Just one flight into the dark expanse of space, one chance to experience the rumbling liftoff from a launch pad, to circle the planet and gaze down on her continents and oceans, to float weightless. But that one flight had never been in the cards for him.

"millionth" is sufficiently approximate to render the "probably" either redundant or implied. Similarly, "the" can replace "he received his", as we can easily infer from the rest of the passage that the letter came to him (and not, say, to a relative or friend).

"one flight"  = "once", and "chance to experience the" is extraneous.

The last line has a certain redundancy that I'm sure is intentional, but I don't think it's needed. We can boil out the repeat of "one flight" and the cliché, and thus make a short sentence with a lot of impact.

Just one flight, he thought, for the millionth time since the acceptance letter from NASA. Just once into the dark expanse of space, one rumbling liftoff from a launch pad, to circle the planet and gaze down on her continents and oceans, to float weightless. But no, not for him.

He examined the silvery, ribbed surface of the main engine thrusters, slightly wiggling them to make sure they’d hold up to minor bumps. He confirmed the position of every decal and the color of every painted line, because he knew that details mattered. And then, as he always did for every handmade model of the space shuttle, he inspected the grey-tipped delta wing of the orbiter, lightly running his fingers along its leading edge as if checking for foam insulation damage.

Here we go from considering to examining; essentially the same thing, so let's boil out the redundancy. And there's "surface" again. "Slightly wiggling" is "jiggling", though I think either will work here.

We never need to say what a POV character knows or things, we just need to state it as true. This gives another short sentence with some punch.

I'm not a big fan of telling sequentiality, as it's implied almost always without the need of saying it, but the "And then" here seems essential to point out the ritual nature of the act. However, we already know it's a handmade model, and we already know it's a space shuttle--though we can emphasize this by replacing "orbiter" with "space shuttle" as we move it to boil out the "of the". Finally, "lightly running" can lose the adverb, as the care he's shown so far is quite evident, and there'd be no reason to believe it wouldn't continue.

As a general rule I hate "as if"s, but in this case it's so terribly appropriate that it just has to stay.

He jiggled the silvery, ribbed main engine thrusters to make sure they’d hold up to minor bumps. He confirmed the position of every decal and the color of every painted line; details matter. And then, as he always did, he inspected the space shuttle's grey-tipped delta wing, running his fingers along its leading edge as if checking for foam insulation damage.

In the quiet of his workshop, surrounded by spray paint cans of every imaginable color, organization bins for PVC pipe fittings, and a movie poster of Apollo 13 on the wall, Garrison paused to remember his friends.

Spray paint comes in cans.

"imaginable" is clutter given that "every color" is already hyperbole.

We can boil out "pipe", as most people only know PVC as plumbing pipe, especially where fittings are involved. I'm not 100% on this one, but I think we can eliminate "organization" without loss of content or tone. If we really want to emphasize a meticulous, organized nature, we can add "racks of" before "spray paint", but I don't think it's necessary.... A disorganized workshop would have the PVC in a box, not in (multiple) bins.

"a movie poster of Apollo 13 on the wall" can lose "movie" and "on the wall", and we can rearrange it to boil out the "of".

In the quiet of his workshop, surrounded by spray paint of every color, bins for PVC fittings, and an Apollo 13 poster, Garrison paused to remember his friends.

He’d worked with them all, of course. The American public didn’t know the crew’s names—Husband, McCool, Anderson, Ramon, Chawla, Brown, and Clark—until they perished in the sky over East Texas, but Garrison had long known them on a first-name basis. Because he’d trained with them. Because he’d originally been slated to fly with them.

The first sentence of this paragraph is redundant with the rest of it; to whit, we have the same sentence later with "worked" replaced by "trained". We should pick one, and eliminate the other.

"didn't know" needs to become "hadn't known", because it's in the past and goes with "until".

We can boil out American as redundant with both NASA and East Texas, "the crew's" = "their", and "in the sky" is redundant with "over"...though on that score, I like the longer "in the sky" more, even though it's longer, I think it preserves the tone of the piece better.

It is obvious that if he'd trained with them, he'd know their names and be on a first name basis.

The last sentence can lose "Because" and "originally" with no loss of content.

The public hadn't known their names—Husband, McCool, Anderson, Ramon, Chawla, Brown, and Clark—until they perished in the East Texas sky, but Garrison had trained with them. He’d been slated to fly with them.

A drop of sweat fell from the tip of his nose and landed on the orbiter’s payload bay doors. He quickly wiped it off and blew on the shuttle’s surface. This was not the time for mistakes.

Sweat doesn't fall except in drops, so we can boil that out; when it falls from the nose, it overwhelmingly falls from the tip, so we can boil that out, too. We know it's an orbiter, and "payload bay doors" is no more informative than "bay doors".

"quickly" is clutter. I'm inclined to do a word-for-word exchange, and swap "on the shuttle's surface" with "to evaporate the moisture". We know the moisture is on the shuttle's surface--on the bay doors, to be precise--so that part is redundant. But it might not be obvious why he'd blow on it if we left it as "blew on it". While not a boil out per se, we can include more information in the same number of words, and evaporation is related to boiling, so we can let it slide. ;)

Judicious use of contractions can help prose from becoming stilted. Thus, "was not" = "wasn't".

Sweat from his nose landed on the bay doors. He wiped it off and blew to evaporate the moisture. This wasn't the time for mistakes.

His cell phone buzzed, and then Elton John’s Rocket Man filled the silence. Garrison fished the phone from his pocket.

Arguably, "cell phone" can lose "phone" or "cell" and still work--so few people have land lines these days, and it's pretty common to call a "cell phone" a "cell". That it has a ringtone makes it doubly clear.

Everyone who will recognize Rocket Man knows that Elton John sings it. Everyone who doesn't, won't care. The second "the phone" = "it".

His phone buzzed, and Rocket Man filled the silence. Garrison fished it from his pocket.

“Mister Garrison?” the female voice asked.

“It’s Mister Sterling. Garrison’s my first name.”

“Oh.”

After an awkward pause, he said, “Can I help you?”

“You’re the Mister Garrison with the telescope?”

I have nothing to boil here--the dialogue is authentic, and the speech/action tags just enough to tell use who's talking.

“Mister Garrison?” the female voice asked.

“It’s Mister Sterling. Garrison’s my first name.”

“Oh.”

After an awkward pause, he said, “Can I help you?”

“You’re the Mister Garrison with the telescope?”

He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. “Garrison’s my first name,” he repeated. “Last name’s Sterling. And yes, I have a telescope out at my weekend ranch. I’m sorry, ma’am, but what do you want?”

If he took a deep breath and gritted his teeth at the same time, then he "sucked air through his teeth". Alternatively, we can just eliminate whichever of the two actions is less necessary. I'd normally go with "He gritted his teeth" as enough, but as I don't want to eliminate content, we'll go with sucking air.

"He repeated" is clutter--we know he's repeating it, and we don't need a speech tag to go along with the action tag used to start the paragraph.

He sucked air through his teeth. “Garrison’s my first name. Last name’s Sterling. And yes, I have a telescope out at my weekend ranch. I’m sorry, ma’am, but what do you want?”

The Result:

Garrison Sterling ran his glove along the four-foot rocket model, feeling for spurs and cracks. His month's work needed to be perfect before delivery to the science museum in Waco. Illuminating the gleaming white orbiter with his flashlight, Garrison considered the space shuttle's stunning beauty. 
Just one flight, he thought, for the millionth time since the acceptance letter from NASA. Just once into the dark expanse of space, one rumbling liftoff from a launch pad, to circle the planet and gaze down on her continents and oceans, to float weightless. But no, not for him. 
He jiggled the silvery, ribbed main engine thrusters to make sure they’d hold up to minor bumps. He confirmed the position of every decal and the color of every painted line; details matter. And then, as he always did, he inspected the space shuttle's grey-tipped delta wing, running his fingers along its leading edge as if checking for foam insulation damage. 
In the quiet of his workshop, surrounded by spray paint of every color, bins for PVC fittings, and an Apollo 13 poster, Garrison paused to remember his friends. 
The public hadn't known their names—Husband, McCool, Anderson, Ramon, Chawla, Brown, and Clark—until they perished in the East Texas sky, but Garrison had trained with them. He’d been slated to fly with them. 
Sweat from his nose landed on the bay doors. He wiped it off and blew to evaporate the moisture. This wasn't the time for mistakes. 
His phone buzzed, and Rocket Man filled the silence. Garrison fished it from his pocket.

“Mister Garrison?” the female voice asked. 
“It’s Mister Sterling. Garrison’s my first name.” 
“Oh.” 
After an awkward pause, he said, “Can I help you?” 
“You’re the Mister Garrison with the telescope?” 
He sucked air through his teeth. “Garrison’s my first name. Last name’s Sterling. And yes, I have a telescope out at my weekend ranch. I’m sorry, ma’am, but what do you want?”

So there you have it, 322 words from an original 429, a reduction of 25%. How'd I do?

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Boiling a Middle School Ninja with Nikki Bennett

This week's boiling is the first 497 words of the rough draft of Nikki Bennett's YA novel, Ninth Street Ninjas. Let's see what we can do with it.

The Original:

Keni’s day wasn’t going to go well.

He knew for two reasons.  One: he was already late for the bus, and two: he was a nerd.  Everybody, including his big sister, called him a nerd.  So it must be true.

Nerds always got picked on.

So even though it was a beautiful fall day, Keni’s stomach was full of extra-hyper butterflies as he ran after the bus.  It was about to drive away and he was going to miss it—he’d be totally humiliated and the kids on his block would never let him forget it.  Keni pushed his sweaty glasses up his nose, blinked his eyes, and ran as fast as he could.  The doors were closing as he yelled.  “Wait!  Wait for me!”

The doors opened and Keni heaved his backpack up the bus steps.  He felt as exposed as if he had nothing on but his underwear as kid after kid stared at him.  He walked up the aisle, searching for a free seat.  They were all full.  Except one.

The biggest, toughest, meanest kid at Hookletown Junior High was sitting in it.  Indy Jenkins.  Keni had been terrified of him ever since Keni’s family moved to 9th Street two years ago.  Indy chomped his gum and glared at Keni through a curtain of oily black bangs. Keni inched his way up the aisle.  He felt like he might poop in his pants.  Did he dare sit, or should he just stand in the aisle for the rest of the ride?  He knew what Ms. Smith—the bus driver—would say to that.

He could hardly fit in the seat, Indy’s muscles filled up most of it.  “Excuse me,” Keni whispered as he smushed his backpack between his knees and the seat in front.

“’Scuse you f’what?  Livin’?” Indy grunted as he shot lightning bolts from his eyes into Keni’s skull.  Keni could already feel the wedgie he just knew he was going to get sometime today.  Sometime when he least expected it.  It was almost a guarantee.  It didn’t matter that there were no other spots left on the bus—Indy would get his revenge.

**********

At lunch, as Keni sat by himself, a girl plopped down next to him.  Carleigh—she lived two houses down.  She was the funniest looking girl Keni had ever seen.  Her hair was bright red and twisted into two long braids.  Freckles dotted her face.  She wore a neon green pair of overalls.  A huge ring with a big red stone in the center encircled one of her fingers.

“Hi Keni,” Carleigh said, giving him a big grin.  “Whatcha up to?”

Keni liked Carleigh, but he always felt a little embarrassed when the girl was around.  He knew he was a nerd and shouldn’t judge other quirky kids, but Carleigh was way out there.  She must bring a few pairs of overalls to school with her, because her overalls changed colors at least three times a day.

The Condensation:

Keni’s day wasn’t going to go well.

He knew for two reasons.  One: he was already late for the bus, and two: he was a nerd.  Everybody, including his big sister, called him a nerd.  So it must be true.

Nerds always got picked on.

Everything here is boilable. We'll pick up that Keni is a nerd (and is perhaps too aware of his nerd-status) through his actions and how others treat him, we'll learn he has a sister when it becomes relevant to the action, everyone knows that nerds get picked on, and the bad day becomes apparent on its own.

So even though it was a beautiful fall day, Keni’s stomach was full of extra-hyper butterflies as he ran after the bus.  It was about to drive away and he was going to miss it—he’d be totally humiliated and the kids on his block would never let him forget it.  Keni pushed his sweaty glasses up his nose, blinked his eyes, and ran as fast as he could.  The doors were closing as he yelled.  “Wait!  Wait for me!”

This in media res beginning makes a great opening paragraph, but starting with action is better than starting with weather.

The word "was" is almost always an indication that something can be boiled out. One or two here or there won't hurt anything, but by and large, boil them out. They're "tells", not "shows", and while the occasional tell is fine, by and large we should avoid them.

I'm going to make the assumption that Keni lives somewhere that leaves fall in autumn. If this isn't correct, we can change the first sentence in a different manner to indicate that it's fall without saying so. (This is one of those cases where I'd discuss it with the author were this a real edit and not a blog boil.)

The same goes for, "It was about to drive away". How does Keni know this? "The driver grabbed the handle" gives the same indication without the tell. The latter half of that sentence should keep the adverb because it gives us a bit of Kenji's voice, but "on his block" can boil out for a few reasons: the kids on the bus likely comprise more than just those on his block, word gets around, and if the latter two aren't true, the fact that it's the kids on the bus who'd witness it is implied.

In "blinked his eyes", "his eyes" is clutter--like "shrugged his shoulders" and other such verbiage. One doesn't blink anything else!

If we boil out the speech attribution, we can combine the closing door with the run, and "ran as fast as he could" = "dashed".

I love--love--the sweaty glasses falling down his nose first thing in the morning. It cries out "nerd" in the best possible way.

Extra-hyper butterflies wracked Keni's stomach as he crashed through fallen leaves toward the bus. The driver grabbed the handle—he’d be totally humiliated and the other kids would never let him forget it.  He pushed his sweaty glasses up his nose, blinked, and dashed for the closing door.

“Wait!  Wait for me!”

The doors opened and Keni heaved his backpack up the bus steps.  He felt as exposed as if he had nothing on but his underwear as kid after kid stared at him.  He walked up the aisle, searching for a free seat.  They were all full.  Except one.

We know it's a bus, so boil that out...but add in that the driver's name is Ms. Smith, so we don't have to break up a sentence to say it later.

The second sentence contains redundant ideas. Trust your reader to know what you mean without telling them twice. "had nothing on but his" = "wore nothing but", and "kid after kid" = "the kids".

"free" is clutter, as he wouldn't be searching for a full seat.

The last two sentences can be combined with the next paragraph.

Ms. Smith opened the doors and Keni heaved his backpack up the steps.  The kids stared at him as if he wore nothing but underwear. He walked up the aisle, searching for a seat.

The biggest, toughest, meanest kid at Hookletown Junior High was sitting in it.  Indy Jenkins.  Keni had been terrified of him ever since Keni’s family moved to 9th Street two years ago.  Indy chomped his gum and glared at Keni through a curtain of oily black bangs. Keni inched his way up the aisle.  He felt like he might poop in his pants.  Did he dare sit, or should he just stand in the aisle for the rest of the ride?  He knew what Ms. Smith—the bus driver—would say to that.

Boiling down this paragraph requires a little rearrangement. Let's move "Keni inched his way up the aisle" to the beginning, and boil out "up the aisle" (because we just said it in the now-previous sentence) and replace it with "toward the only open seat."

We don't need to say that Indy Jenkins is sitting, as it would only be strange were he not sitting.

Indy Jenkins can combine with the "him" in the next sentence, and we can make it more active and thus condense it further.

We can boil the "in" before "his pants".

Rhetorical questions are something I'd generally avoid in commercial fiction, and we can condense it by making it a simple statement.

Unless Ms. Smith becomes relevant to the story, we can gloss over her name.

Keni inched toward the only open seat, next to the biggest, toughest, meanest kid at Hookletown Junior High. Indy Jenkins had terrified Keni ever since Keni’s family moved to 9th Street two years ago. Indy chomped his gum and glared at Keni through a curtain of oily black bangs. He felt like he might poop his pants.  Maybe he'd stand in the aisle for the rest of the ride. He knew what Ms. Smith would say to that.

He could hardly fit in the seat, Indy’s muscles filled up most of it.  “Excuse me,” Keni whispered as he smushed his backpack between his knees and the seat in front.

"He could hardly fit" = "He squeezed in"

"as he smushed" = "smushing". (I'd prefer "smooshing", but my dictionary says both are acceptable.)

He squeezed in against Indy’s muscles. “Excuse me,” Keni whispered, smushing his backpack between his knees and the seat in front.

“’Scuse you f’what?  Livin’?” Indy grunted as he shot lightning bolts from his eyes into Keni’s skull.  Keni could already feel the wedgie he just knew he was going to get sometime today.  Sometime when he least expected it.  It was almost a guarantee.  It didn’t matter that there were no other spots left on the bus—Indy would get his revenge.
**********

Dialect is easy to overdo, and should be conveyed through word choice rather than spelling whenever possible. If you get the voice right, people will read it the way you intend anyway.

Most speech tags can boil out, especially when there's already an action tag to go along with it. (As an aside, "grunted" is an action tag used as a speech tag, and this should be avoided pretty much every time.) By making Indy's eyes the subject, we can condense the sentence a bit.

"he just knew he was going to get sometime today" = "he'd get later." As we can assume that Keni is not actually psychic (as conveyed by the "just knew"), we can state that he knows it and thus convey his lack of self-esteem without calling attention to the fact that it may or may not ultimately be true.

"Sometime when he least expected it. It was almost a guarantee." is clutter; he expects it, indeed can already feel it, and everyone (including your readers and Keni) already knows that bullies are all about surprise and opportunity.

“’Scuse you for what?  Living?” Indy's eyes shot lightning bolts into Keni’s skull.  Keni could already feel the wedgie he'd get later. It didn’t matter that there were no other spots left on the bus—Indy would get his revenge.

**********

At lunch, as Keni sat by himself, a girl plopped down next to him.  Carleigh—she lived two houses down.  She was the funniest looking girl Keni had ever seen.  Her hair was bright red and twisted into two long braids.  Freckles dotted her face.  She wore a neon green pair of overalls.  A huge ring with a big red stone in the center encircled one of her fingers.

We can convey that Keni's at the table alone without explicitly saying it, combine the down-plopping with the fact that it's lunch, and give Carleigh's name in one fell swoop.

That she's weird-looking is conveyed by her description, and his worry that he shouldn't judge other quirky kids in the next paragraph, so let's boil that out.

Again, we can boil out some "was"es.

Overalls come in "pairs" (sort of, but that's how we say it), and "encircled one of her fingers" is sufficiently vague that we can boil it out entirely--rings are worn on fingers unless otherwise specified.

Carleigh plopped her lunch down next to his. She lived two houses down. Her bright red hair twisted into two long braids, and freckles dotted her face. Her neon green overalls clashed with the big red stone on her huge ring.

“Hi Keni,” Carleigh said, giving him a big grin.  “Whatcha up to?”

        Keni liked Carleigh, but he always felt a little embarrassed when the girl was around.  He knew he was a nerd and shouldn’t judge other quirky kids, but Carleigh was way out there.  She must bring a few pairs of overalls to school with her, because her overalls changed colors at least three times a day.

Again boil out the speech tag, and "giving him a big grin" = "grinned." (Or if the bigness is important, "beamed.")

"he always felt a little embarrassed when the girl was around" = "her friendship embarrassed him".

"he was" is clutter, as is "and"--and the bold on way shouldn't be there.

What must be true can always be boiled out, and her overalls do not change spontaneously, she changes them.

Finally, "at least three" = "multiple", because once would be once, twice would be twice, thrice would be several, and multiple can mean several or more!

“Hi Keni.” Carleigh beamed. “Whatcha up to?”

        Keni liked Carleigh, but her friendship embarrassed him. He knew a nerd shouldn’t judge other quirky kids, but Carleigh was way out there. Even at school, she changed into different colors of overalls multiple times a day.

The Result:

Extra-hyper butterflies wracked Keni's stomach as he crashed through fallen leaves toward the bus. The driver grabbed the handle—he’d be totally humiliated and the other kids would never let him forget it.  He pushed his sweaty glasses up his nose, blinked, and dashed for the closing door.

“Wait!  Wait for me!”

Ms. Smith opened the doors and Keni heaved his backpack up the steps.  The kids stared at him as if he wore nothing but underwear. He walked up the aisle, searching for a seat.

Keni inched toward the only open seat, next to the biggest, toughest, meanest kid at Hookletown Junior High. Indy Jenkins had terrified Keni ever since Keni’s family moved to 9th Street two years ago. Indy chomped his gum and glared at Keni through a curtain of oily black bangs. He felt like he might poop his pants.  Maybe he'd stand in the aisle for the rest of the ride. He knew what Ms. Smith would say to that.

He squeezed in against Indy’s muscles. “Excuse me,” Keni whispered, smushing his backpack between his knees and the seat in front.

“’Scuse you for what?  Living?” Indy's eyes shot lightning bolts into Keni’s skull.  Keni could already feel the wedgie he'd get later. It didn’t matter that there were no other spots left on the bus—Indy would get his revenge.

**********

Carleigh plopped her lunch down next to his. She lived two houses down. Her bright red hair twisted into two long braids, and freckles dotted her face. Her neon green overalls clashed with the big red stone on her huge ring.

“Hi Keni.” She grinned. “Whatcha up to?”

        Keni liked Carleigh, but her friendship embarrassed him. He knew a nerd shouldn’t judge other quirky kids, but Carleigh was way out there. Even at school, she changed into different colors of overalls multiple times a day.


311 words from an original 497, a reduction of 37%. How'd I do?

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

A Wilder Boiling

This week's boiling comes from Diana Wilder, a friend from the ABNA forums. An excerpt from a piece of fiction set in Egypt, the original sits at 499 words.

The Original:

Nakhtamun frowned as he adjusted the reins' tension.  "Don't be a fool.  They'd have to march on the double and they would not thank me for ordering it without need.  The fort is obviously deserted."

Senwadjet lowered his head and spoke over him.  "If it please Your Majesty: we followed your orders and did not enter the structure, nor did we approach it closely.  We do not know whether it is deserted.  At this moment we know nothing of it apart from its outward appearance."

Nakhtamun stared for the time it took to check the arrow-filled quiver to his right.  "We can verify that ourselves," he said.

Senwadjet raised his head.  "Sire, I beg you.  If I have done anything that has pleased you in the time you have been with me: we should have our foot soldiers and scouts supporting us.  It will be slower, but we can face and fight any resistance we may encounter."

"No!"

Senwadjet continued doggedly.  "But, Sire, if they are dealing treacherously—"

"The place is deserted!  I can see it, myself!   There is nothing there.  The troops will follow us as they can."

"But Majesty!"

"Don't try my patience, General! If they have betrayed us, you have my leave to put them all to the sword!" And he urged his horses to a canter before Senwadjet could protest any further.

**   **   **

Magnificent! The sun-bleached stones of the fortress seemed set within a frame of mountains rising almost purple to either side.  The brightness echoed the lightness in Nakhtamun's heart.  He would speak with his father and with Ramesses.

He eased his hold on the reins and his team quickened its pace.  The canter became a gallop until they were in the shadow of the fortress' square gatehouse.  He drew up, then, smiling at the tower, picturing it stuccoed and painted, peopled with soldiers and traders, as it had been in the great times.  His horses felt the tension on the reins and shook their heads, their feathered headdresses tossing in the wind.

He turned to Senwadjet, who was beside him.  "They spoke truth," he said.  "It's in fine shape, from this vantage! We will see how it seems from inside!"

His horses stiffened their necks, snorting as he shook the reins.  "What's this?" he demanded.  He loosed the lash of his short driving whip and cracked it over their heads.  The team lurched forward and then steadied, though their ears flicked back and forth.  "That's it, my beauties!" he said.

He swept through the gatehouse, Senwadjet's panicked shout ringing in his ears behind him.  A twang from the right, then a heavy thud as a long black shaft seemed to bloom in his breast.  The horses screamed and reared.  He heard the whine of a bowstring and looked down, choking, as another arrow appeared beside the first.

The back of his throat was filling with blood.  His hands were losing their strength as he fell forward against the chariot rail.

The Condensation:

Nakhtamun frowned as he adjusted the reins' tension.  "Don't be a fool.  They'd have to march on the double and they would not thank me for ordering it without need.  The fort is obviously deserted." 

As the simultanaety is sufficiently implied, we can change "as he" to "and".

"The reins' tension" = "the reins". As a general rule, we should avoid describing inanimate objects with possessives, so "the tension on the reins" would be better were "the reins" insufficient.

"and they would not" = "and wouldn't", and we can lose the "obviously" without loss of content. In fact, I think that boiling out the adverb makes the sentence more confident, not less.

Nakhtamun frowned and adjusted the reins. "Don't be a fool. They'd have to march on the double and wouldn't thank me for ordering it without need. The fort is deserted." 

Senwadjet lowered his head and spoke over him.  "If it please Your Majesty: we followed your orders and did not enter the structure, nor did we approach it closely.  We do not know whether it is deserted.  At this moment we know nothing of it apart from its outward appearance."

I'm not sure what the first sentence means, but the fact that he spoke is clear without stating it. I'm going to change "lowered" to "bowed" because I think it's what the author meant. The colon is unnecessary.

One cannot enter a structure that one hasn't approached, so we can boil that out. "Closely", too, can go.

My usual admonishment about contractions and stilted prose doesn't apply here, methinks, because when speaking to kings and lords (and in the modern day, cops), people tend to be a bit stilted.

The last sentence is sufficiently obvious—if they didn't approach, they won't know what it's like inside—that I think we can boil it out without loss of content.

Senwadjet bowed his head. "If it please Your Majesty, we followed your orders and didn't approach. We do not know whether it is deserted."

Nakhtamun stared for the time it took to check the arrow-filled quiver to his right.  "We can verify that ourselves," he said.

Again I'm unclear what this sentence means. Is he staring at the quiver? If he's not and is instead staring at Senwadjet, what does it mean to check the quiver? Due to the lack of clarity, I've chosen to omit the reference to the quiver.

Either way, the action makes the speech attribution boilable.

Nakhtamun stared at him. "We can verify that ourselves."

Senwadjet raised his head.  "Sire, I beg you.  If I have done anything that has pleased you in the time you have been with me: we should have our foot soldiers and scouts supporting us.  It will be slower, but we can face and fight any resistance we may encounter."

This dialogue is clunky, though I get the feeling that this is at least partially intentional. Still, I think we can keep the stilted feel and still boil out a few words. Again, the colon is unnecessary.

Senwadjet raised his head. "Sire, I beg you. If my service has pleased you, foot soldiers and scouts should support us. It will be slower, but we can fight any resistance."

"No!"
Senwadjet continued doggedly.  "But, Sire, if they are dealing treacherously—"
"The place is deserted!  I can see it, myself!   There is nothing there.  The troops will follow us as they can."
"But Majesty!"

Arguments in real life are often repetitive to the point of savage annoyance. Arguments in prose should be more concise, so as to get the point across without bogging down the plot.

"Continued doggedly" is a tell, not a show. The dialogue carries his persistence without the tag.

"No!"
"But, Sire, if they are dealing treacherously—"
"The place is deserted! I can see it, myself! The troops will follow us as they can."
"But—"

"Don't try my patience, General! If they have betrayed us, you have my leave to put them all to the sword!" And he urged his horses to a canter before Senwadjet could protest any further.
**   **   **

Here I'd add contractions, because kings are less formal with their subordinates than the other way around.

I'd go a bit easier on the exclamation points, too.

We can boil out the "And" and the "any". The "horses" confused me here—I'd consider adding something to indicate that he's in a chariot(?) as opposed to on horseback.

"Don't try my patience, General! If they've betrayed us, put them to the sword." He urged his horses to a canter before Senwadjet could protest further.
**   **   **

Magnificent! The sun-bleached stones of the fortress seemed set within a frame of mountains rising almost purple to either side.  The brightness echoed the lightness in Nakhtamun's heart.  He would speak with his father and with Ramesses.

"stones of the fortress" = fortress stones, "almost purple" is close enough to "purple", and instead of "seemed set within a frame", we can make the sentence more active and have the mountains frame the fortress.

The brightness/lightness rhyme is a bit sing-songy, and we can convey the same sentiment without it.

The final sentence, "He would speak with his father and with Ramesses" disrupts the action without providing the reader with useful information. We don't know who Ramesses is, nor do we know what he intends to speak to his father about, nor do either apply to the immediate matter, which is the ride to the fortress. Thus, out it boils.

Magnificent! Purple mountains to either side framed the sun-bleached fortress stones. The brightness echoed Nakhtamun's heart.

He eased his hold on the reins and his team quickened its pace.  The canter became a gallop until they were in the shadow of the fortress' square gatehouse.  He drew up, then, smiling at the tower, picturing it stuccoed and painted, peopled with soldiers and traders, as it had been in the great times.  His horses felt the tension on the reins and shook their heads, their feathered headdresses tossing in the wind.

The latter half of the first sentence is redundant with the next sentence, which itself can boil down a good deal.

"then" is clutter, better replaced by the near-invisible "and".

He can't know what his horses felt—that's a POV glitch (though a minor one). I'm not a big fan of sensory verbs anyway, as even when they're not clutter, they're usually a "tell".

He eased his hold on the reins. They galloped into the shadow of the fortress' square gatehouse. He drew up and smiled at the tower, picturing it stuccoed and painted, peopled with soldiers and traders, as it had been in the great times. His horses shook their heads against the tension on the reins, their feathered headdresses tossing in the wind.

He turned to Senwadjet, who was beside him.  "They spoke truth," he said.  "It's in fine shape, from this vantage! We will see how it seems from inside!"

That Senwadjet is beside him is implied by the fact that he turns to him, and the action obviates the need for the speech attribution. Other than that, "We will"  = "We'll".

He turned to Senwadjet. "They spoke truth. It's in fine shape, from this vantage! We'll see how it seems from inside!"

His horses stiffened their necks, snorting as he shook the reins.  "What's this?" he demanded.  He loosed the lash of his short driving whip and cracked it over their heads.  The team lurched forward and then steadied, though their ears flicked back and forth.  "That's it, my beauties!" he said.

We can boil out both speech attributions without loss of content.

He can't crack the whip without loosening the lash, and indeed with at least one hand on the reins it's difficult to picture how he'd do that other than just letting go of it, so let's boil that out.

Driving whips are short, so pick one or the other.

"The team" = "they", we can lose the "then".

Ears can only flick back and forth, so back and forth is redundant.

His horses stiffened their necks, snorting as he shook the reins. "What's this?" He cracked the short whip over their heads.  They lurched forward then steadied, though their ears flicked.  "That's it, my beauties!"

He swept through the gatehouse, Senwadjet's panicked shout ringing in his ears behind him.  A twang from the right, then a heavy thud as a long black shaft seemed to bloom in his breast.  The horses screamed and reared.  He heard the whine of a bowstring and looked down, choking, as another arrow appeared beside the first.

"behind him" doesn't work here. First, it seems like his ears are behind him, and second, we already know that he's outpased Senwadjet.

"Seemed to" is perhaps my least favorite phrase in all of fiction. If it seemed to do something to the POV character, then it might as well have done it. If later this turns out to be wrong (and the fact that it's wrong is important to the plot), it can be dealt with as that becomes apparent to the POV character.

You have a lot of compound sentences here, and you can emphasize the arrow by breaking it off. Given that some reasonable amount of the shaft is buried in his chest, "long" can be boiled out.

I don't know why trained warhorses would scream, so would recommend omitting that, but doing so in this case would be a removal of content, so I'll leave it in.

"He heard" belongs with almost all sensory verbs: boiled out. As the POV character, if he didn't hear it, you wouldn't describe it.

Bowstrings don't whine, and though you've already used twang, I think you can get away with it again.

The time between the sound and the arrow appearing would be darn close to zero, especially if he's close enough to hear the twang, so the likelihood of his looking down as it hit is small.

The "choking" stalls the sentence, and works better in the next paragraph.

He swept through the gatehouse, Senwadjet's panicked shout ringing in his ears. A twang from the right, then a heavy thud. A black shaft bloomed in his breast.  The horses screamed and reared. Another twang. He looked down at the second arrow beside the first.

The back of his throat was filling with blood.  His hands were losing their strength as he fell forward against the chariot rail.

"was [verb]ing" is almost always a sign that something can be boiled out. In this case, let's use the "choking" we pulled from above. Choking occurs in the back of the throat, and wouldn't happen without enough blood to fill it.

"were [verb]ing" almost always can lose the were" and the "ing".

He choked on blood. His hands lost their strength as he fell forward against the chariot rail.

The Result:

Upon reading the boiled version, something came to my attention. The structure of each paragraph is much the same.

Before the break, it's [Name] [verb]ed four times in a row: N frowned, S bowed, N stared, S raised.

After the break, it's He eased, He turned, His horses stiffened, He swept, He choked.

The piece will benefit by not only varying the types of sentences (as we did above), but also the structure of paragraphs. Given that there are only two speakers, we can combine the stare and the head-raising, and boil out a few of the names, thus mixing up the paragraph forms a bit.

After the break, a little rearrangement accomplishes the same thing.

Nakhtamun frowned and adjusted the reins. "Don't be a fool. They'd have to march on the double and wouldn't thank me for ordering it without need. The fort is deserted." 

"If it please Your Majesty." Senwadjet bowed his head. "We followed your orders and didn't approach. We do not know whether it is deserted."

"We can verify that ourselves."

Their eyes met. "Sire, I beg you. If my service has pleased you, foot soldiers and scouts should support us. It will be slower, but we can fight any resistance."

"No!"

"But, Sire, if they are dealing treacherously—"

"The place is deserted! I can see it, myself! The troops will follow us as they can."

"But—"

"Don't try my patience, General! If they've betrayed us, put them to the sword." He urged his horses to a canter before Senwadjet could protest further.

**   **   **

Magnificent! Purple mountains to either side framed the sun-bleached fortress stones. The brightness echoed Nakhtamun's heart. He eased his hold on the reins.

They galloped into the shadow of the fortress' square gatehouse. He drew up and smiled at the tower, picturing it stuccoed and painted, peopled with soldiers and traders, as it had been in the great times. His horses shook their heads against the tension on the reins, their feathered headdresses tossing in the wind.

He turned to Senwadjet. "They spoke truth. It's in fine shape, from this vantage! We'll see how it seems from inside!"

His horses stiffened their necks, snorting as he shook the reins. "What's this?" He cracked the short whip over their heads.  They lurched forward then steadied, though their ears flicked.  "That's it, my beauties!"

Senwadjet's panicked shout rang in his ears as he swept through the gatehouse. A twang from the right, then a heavy thud. A black shaft bloomed in Nakhtamun's breast.  The horses screamed and reared. Another twang. He looked down at the second arrow beside the first.

He choked on blood. His hands lost their strength as he fell forward against the chariot rail.

341 words, down from 499, a reduction of 32%. How'd I do?