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 9^th 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 9^th 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 9^th 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 9^th 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?

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?

Boiling Bridgit Goett

This week's boiling comes from Bridgit Goett, who I met on the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award forums. She's offered up the first 491 words of her novel Miss Bryson Loses Her Hat. It opens with a lot of dialogue, and rather formal British dialogue at that.

Dialogue is interesting because we can express an enormous amount about people through what they say, but we can't write dialogue the way people actually talk. If we um, like, did that, our prose would like get totally run over by like run-on sentences and stuff because, um, people just don't talk in a way we want to read, you know?

Let's see what we can do with it.

The Original:

Phillip Charles Phelps-Morton, the Fourth Earl of Kensington, was sitting sprawled across a  leather chair, one leg thrown carelessly over an arm, and reading the most recent copy of The London Gazette when his valet walked into the bedchamber—a  look of gravity on his face.

Unconcerned as his valet always had a look of gravity on his face the Earl glanced up from his paper and drawled, “My dear Bertram is something the matter?”

“Nothing that can’t be solved rather easily,” replied the valet, heading straight for his master’s wardrobe. “Have you looked at the clock recently, my lord?”

“I’m sorry but I haven’t had the time,” joked the Earl.

“Ha-ha, very funny, sir, but unappreciated at the moment; have you really no idea what time it is?”

Deciding to wax philosophical, Phillip leaned his head back against the chair and said, “What is time really?”

Being of a more pragmatic bent, the valet replied, “I believe in this instance it signifies that hour of the day when you’re to get dressed for the evening.”

“Not one for thinking too deeply about things, are you, Bertram.”

“I’m thinking it’s getting awfully late if you wish to be ready on time.”

Phillip sat up straight in the chair. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I don’t care if I’m on time or not. In fact, I’m not sure I even want to go out this evening at all. I can’t tell you how bored I am with this endless circle of parties and routs. It’s always so predictable—never any variation! And always the same people saying and doing it.”

The valet backed out of the wardrobe. “I’m sorry, sir, what did you say?”

“All you need to know is that I’m bored.”

“Oh, is that it? Well, what say we enliven things a bit by putting on your waistcoat?” The valet waved a garment at the Earl.

Sighing heavily, Phillip stood up. “And seeing that it’s the black satin—again—is it any wonder I’m bored?”

“Yes, a black satin waistcoat is very tiresome, but perfectly suited for the evening’s festivities.” The valet pulled the garment over the Earl’s shoulders and buttoned up the front. Then, retrieving a small velvet-lined box he held it out and said, “Now which set of cuff links would you prefer?”

“Oh, I suppose those will do,” he said, pointing indifferently at a pair of gold ones.

Bertram didn’t say a word—he merely shuddered.

Amused, Phillip raised an eyebrow. “Ah, but apparently you don’t think they’ll do.”

“Oh, no, sir, they’re an excellent choice,” murmured the valet, politely. “If one were dining at home, alone, with only a kitchen maid for company.”

“I did say I wanted to stay in for the evening,” dead-panned the Earl.

“And if you were I’d let you wear the gold ones but since you aren’t might I suggest these?” The valet removed a ruby-studded link from the box.

The Condensation:

Phillip Charles Phelps-Morton, the Fourth Earl of Kensington, was sitting sprawled across a  leather chair, one leg thrown carelessly over an arm, and reading the most recent copy of The London Gazette when his valet walked into the bedchamber—a  look of gravity on his face.

Unconcerned as his valet always had a look of gravity on his face the Earl glanced up from his paper and drawled, “My dear Bertram is something the matter?”

"the Fourth Earl" can lose the "the".

We can almost always boil "was [verb]ing" down to "[verb]ed"...but in this case I think we can go a strong step further by letting "sprawled" stand on its own.

"carelessly" is, like most adverbs, clutter, as is "thrown".

The now-condensed sentence can thus lose the "and".

"the most recent copy of" is unnecessary, because when one reads a newspaper, it's only notable if it's not the most recent copy. (So "reading last Tuesday's" would give some characterization, whereas "the most recent copy of" does not.)

Let's end the sentence there, and thus boil out "when". "When" is almost always clutter, because it's a given that any action described happens at that point in the story.

"a look of gravity" is the same as "a grave look"...but "on his face" is clutter, because one doesn't wear a look anywhere else. And let's lose the emdash in favor of a comma.

The "always" statement in the second paragraph is a "tell", and we already have a scene full of "show" that Phillip isn't bent out of shape by his valet's gravity. We don't want to take the good job of showing and bash it down with an unnecessary tell—so out it boils.

The lack of concern is evident, as is the drawl, in the blase irony of his statement. The words carry both sentiments without our having to state them, so lets boil them out.

We can then combine these two paragraphs.

"The Earl" is Phillip, so let's call him that.

We already know he's reading the Gazette, so we can boil out "from his paper".

The dialogue needs a comma.

Phillip Charles Phelps-Morton, Fourth Earl of Kensington, sprawled across a leather chair, one leg over an arm, reading The London Gazette. His valet walked into the bedchamber, face grave. Phillip glanced up. “My dear Bertram, is something the matter?”

“Nothing that can’t be solved rather easily,” replied the valet, heading straight for his master’s wardrobe. “Have you looked at the clock recently, my lord?”

Dialogue tags are easy to overuse, and in conversations of only two people they're almost never necessary.

We know his name is Bertram, so there's no reason to continue calling him "the valet".

"heading straight for" = "walked to", but even that's more than we need.

"his master's" can boil out for two reasons: first, we already know it's Phillip's bedroom, and second, we already know Phillip is his Earl.

There's nothing wrong with the adverbs in the dialogue, per se, but almost every chunk of dialogue here has at least one adverb in it. And while we might talk that way, it's cumbersome to read. To that end, let's boil out "rather easily" and "recently".

“Nothing that can’t be solved.” Bertram opened the wardrobe. “Have you looked at the clock, my lord?”

“I’m sorry but I haven’t had the time,” joked the Earl.

We know it's a joke, and the Earl is the only other person in the conversation, so boil out the attribution altogether. (I also added a comma.)

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t had the time.”

“Ha-ha, very funny, sir, but unappreciated at the moment; have you really no idea what time it is?”

We can boil out either "ha-ha" or "very funny", "at the moment".

Let's change the semicolon to a period. The sentence after it reads odd to me, but it seems to fit the diction of a British valet (in my rather ignorant opinion on the topic of how a British valet does/should sound), so let's leave it in.

“Very funny, sir, but unappreciated. Have you really no idea what time it is?”

Deciding to wax philosophical, Phillip leaned his head back against the chair and said, “What is time really?”

We can always boil out cases where we state what someone does, then have them do it (or vice-versa).

"against the chair" isn't needed, as we know he's sitting in it.

Lose the speech attribution, and keep the "really" here because it's a deliberate echo of Bertram's previous dialogue, but I did add a comma.

Phillip leaned his head back. “What is time, really?”

Being of a more pragmatic bent, the valet replied, “I believe in this instance it signifies that hour of the day when you’re to get dressed for the evening.”

“Not one for thinking too deeply about things, are you, Bertram.”

“I’m thinking it’s getting awfully late if you wish to be ready on time.”

Bertram's pragmatism is inferable from the rest of the scene, and besides, a pragmatic valet follows the trope well enough that it doesn't need saying.

We can boil out a few words here and still keep Bertram's stuffy tone: "I believe", "signifies", "that hour of the day" can all go.

The next two lines can be replaced with a clause in Bertram's first line here.

“In this instance it's when you’re to get dressed if you're to be on time this evening.”

Phillip sat up straight in the chair. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I don’t care if I’m on time or not. In fact, I’m not sure I even want to go out this evening at all. I can’t tell you how bored I am with this endless circle of parties and routs. It’s always so predictable—never any variation! And always the same people saying and doing it.”

We know he's in a chair.

The next six lines of dialogue come close to saying the same thing over and over again. We could boil them down in near-infinite ways, most of which amount to taste, so I'm going to use my editor cudgel and boil as I see fit.

Phillip sat up straight. “But I don’t care if I’m on time. I’m not sure I even want to go out. These endless parties and routs are so predictable, the same people saying and doing the same things.”

The valet backed out of the wardrobe. “I’m sorry, sir, what did you say?”

“All you need to know is that I’m bored.”

"The valet" = "Bertram".

"All you need to know is that"...could be argued to be clutter, but we might make the argument that it characterizes Phillip as bossy and elitist. This is one of those cases where, were this an edit for real and not my blog, I'd have to talk the change over with the author to see what was meant. But as it's my blog and not an edit for real, I'm going to instead assume that what the author meant to portray here is malaise and not elitism.

Bertram backed out of the wardrobe. “I’m sorry, sir, what did you say?”

“I’m bored.”

“Oh, is that it? Well, what say we enliven things a bit by putting on your waistcoat?” The valet waved a garment at the Earl.

We can again keep Bertram's stuffy tone while boiling out a few things: "is that it", "Well", and "a bit".

"The valet" = "Bertram", and "the Earl." = "him."

“Oh? What say we enliven things by putting on your waistcoat?” Bertram waved a garment at him.

Sighing heavily, Phillip stood up. “And seeing that it’s the black satin—again—is it any wonder I’m bored?”

We can boil out the adverb, and the "up".

The first half of the sentence can boil down a bit, and can lose the "again", as it's implied by the "the" in "the black satin".

Sighing, Phillip stood. “The black satin. Is it any wonder I’m bored?”

“Yes, a black satin waistcoat is very tiresome, but perfectly suited for the evening’s festivities.” The valet pulled the garment over the Earl’s shoulders and buttoned up the front. Then, retrieving a small velvet-lined box he held it out and said, “Now which set of cuff links would you prefer?”

We know it's a black satin waistcoat.

"perfectly" can boil out.

"The valet" = Bertram, "the Earl's" = "Phillip's".

"Then" is clutter. As it's the next sentence, sequentiality is implied.

As "retrieving" is so vague so as to not convey any envisionable information, we can leave it implied.

Again we can remove the speech attribution.

We know cufflinks (one word) come in sets.

Both characters know the box contains cufflinks, so there's no reason for Bertram to say it.

 “Yes, very tiresome, but suited for the evening’s festivities.” Bertram pulled the garment over Phillip's shoulders and buttoned up the front. He held out a small velvet-lined box. “Sir?”

“Oh, I suppose those will do,” he said, pointing indifferently at a pair of gold ones.

Now's the time to mention that they're cufflinks, subsumed into the action.

Let's get rid of the unintentional rhyme by boiling out, "I suppose".

Boil out the speech attribution and the adverb.

“Oh, those will do.” He pointed at a pair of gold cufflinks.

Bertram didn’t say a word—he merely shuddered.

There is almost never a reason to state that a character didn't do something. And boil out the adverb.

Bertram shuddered.

Amused, Phillip raised an eyebrow. “Ah, but apparently you don’t think they’ll do.”

It's clear he's amused, so boil it out.

Boil out the adverb, and "they'll do" = "so."

Phillip raised an eyebrow. “Ah, but you don’t think so.”

“Oh, no, sir, they’re an excellent choice,” murmured the valet, politely. “If one were dining at home, alone, with only a kitchen maid for company.”

Bertram is the valet, and the sentence is polite on its face, so we don't need to say so.

"alone" and "with only a kitchen maid" contradict each other.

“Oh, no, sir, they’re an excellent choice,” Bertram murmured. “If one were dining at home with only a kitchen maid for company.”

“I did say I wanted to stay in for the evening,” dead-panned the Earl.

"did say" = "said", except that here I think the extra emphasis is a good thing, so we'll spare it.

We know it's "for the evening", and it's a dead-pan as written, so we don't need to say so.

“I did say I wanted to stay in.”

“And if you were I’d let you wear the gold ones but since you aren’t might I suggest these?” The valet removed a ruby-studded link from the box.

Most of the first sentence can boil out, unless it's critical that the reader know that Bertram, while the valet, feels that he has the power to dictate to an Earl what he can and can't wear. (This is another "talk to the author" moment).

"The valet" is Bertram, and as we know the cufflinks are in the box, we can boil that down.

“And since you aren’t might I suggest these?” Bertram held up a ruby-studded link.

The Result:

Phillip Charles Phelps-Morton, Fourth Earl of Kensington, sprawled across a leather chair, one leg over an arm, reading The London Gazette. His valet walked into the bedchamber, face grave. Phillip glanced up. “My dear Bertram, is something the matter?”  

“Nothing that can’t be solved.” Bertram opened the wardrobe. “Have you looked at the clock, my lord?” 

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t had the time.” 

“Very funny, sir, but unappreciated. Have you really no idea what time it is?” 

Phillip leaned his head back. “What is time, really?” 

“In this instance it's when you’re to get dressed if you're to be on time this evening.” 

Phillip sat up straight. “But I don’t care if I’m on time. I’m not sure I even want to go out. These endless parties and routs are so predictable, the same people saying and doing the same things.” 

Bertram backed out of the wardrobe. “I’m sorry, sir, what did you say?” 

“I’m bored.” 

“Oh? What say we enliven things by putting on your waistcoat?” Bertram waved a garment at him. 

Sighing, Phillip stood. “The black satin. Is it any wonder I’m bored?” 

“Yes, very tiresome, but suited for the evening’s festivities.” Bertram pulled the garment over Phillip's shoulders and buttoned up the front. He held out a small velvet-lined box. “Sir?” 

“Oh, those will do.” He pointed at a pair of gold cufflinks. 

Bertram shuddered. 

Phillip raised an eyebrow. “Ah, but you don’t think so.” 

“Oh, no, sir, they’re an excellent choice,” Bertram murmured. “If one were dining at home with only a kitchen maid for company.” 

“I did say I wanted to stay in.” 

“And since you aren’t might I suggest these?” Bertram held up a ruby-studded link. 

491 words boiled down to 283, a reduction of 42%. I believe I succeeded in keeping the tone not only in the individual sentences, but in the relationship between Phillip and Bertram. Do you agree?