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?
No comments:
Post a Comment