Tag Archives: sentence

How do I improve this sentence? A Quora question

Since Quora likes to collapse my answers in an effort to keep me quiet, I’m copying and pasting some of the Quora Q and A’s in which I’ve participated. Here’s a question from Quora.

Question: How can I improve the following sentence?

 

Addendum: They hence end up preferring better ways of ensuring that these issues never arise again in their counties.

 

Answer: Good question, a question worthy of an editor.

 

We certainly have an ugly, clunky sentence up there. What’s it saying? What will the paragraph explain? These are questions a writer, or an editor, must be able to answer.

 

As I’ve stated ad nauseam: When you’re writing your story, article, post, whatever, just write what you’re thinking, but when you’re done writing, you need to find the best possible way to make a point to a target audience. Write for you. Edit for an audience.

 

Let’s look at the sentence again:

 

They hence end up preferring better ways of ensuring that these issues never arise again in their counties.

 

Okay, it seems to me that they, their issues, and their countries are the points in question.

By focusing on the meaning behind the words, we learn that people have ended up ensuring that some issues never arise in their countries. The simplest expression, I believe, is this:

 

They discovered better ways to prevent the issues from ever again arising within their countries.

 

In order to make it more complex, I need to know how they came up with better ways to prevent issues from arising. If I assume it’s through education, I write a more complex sentence.

 

For instance: Due to an improved educational system, they devised better ways to prevent the issues from ever again arising within their countries.

 

Such a case can, and should, be extended within the paragraph. Obviously, this person from Quora wasn’t writing a single sentence, but an entire article or maybe even a book. In such an event, it may be necessary to simplify such a complex sentence, and write two or three simpler sentences, but that really depends on the target audience; will it be fifth graders or grad students?

 

Editing is not only about finding the most cogent way to present ideas; it is also about presenting the cogent ideas in terms best suited for a specific audience. Many ideas are too complicated for a single sentence. That’s precisely why we write in paragraphs.

 

A paragraph should contain only a single idea, and each of its sentences should only be present to support and expound upon that idea, which is why some sentences are more complex than others, and is why some paragraphs are longer than others.

 

Can your editing software handle all that? Hire an editor. Your readers deserve it.

 

BT dubz, don’t forget that June is my BOOM month. If you don’t know what that is, read about it here….

Thanks for reading. Like, share, and all that jazz.

Does sentence structure matter?

Since Quora likes to collapse my answers in an effort to keep me quiet, I’m copying and pasting some of the Quora Q and A’s in which I’ve participated. Here’s a question from Quora.

 

Question: Is the following sentence correctly structured?

 

“One has to draw our attention to the cultural differences thay may lead to miscommunication.” How can that sentence be improved?

 

Answer: First, thay is actually that. Second, you might want to replace that with which.

 

One has to draw our attention to the cultural differences, which may lead to miscommunication.

 

However, it’s still a bit confusing.

 

It sounds like the sentence is suggesting that an outside influence is required to point out to us that cultural differences can lead to miscommunication, or it might be saying that we should pay more attention to the miscommunications caused by the cultural differences, but then again, if these differences “may” lead to miscommunication, they also “may not” lead to miscommunication—it’s too open to interpretation. What do you want say?

 

Perhaps, a simpler version is the following:

 

Only an outside force can show us that cultural differences often lead to miscommunication.

 

That’s cut and dry.

 

The differences among cultures can lead to miscommunication. The differences among cultures do lead to miscommunication. Differences of culture are one cause of miscommunication. Differences of culture go unnoticed during miscommunication.

 

Unless someone points it out, no one might notice that differences of culture go unnoticed during miscommunication.

 

Again, what do you want to say to your audience? It is not all the same. Each sentence is very different and can have a huge impact on the overall idea present within a single paragraph.

 

Writing is all about getting the thoughts out of our heads and onto a physical or digital medium, but communication and storytelling are totally different worlds from just written thoughts.

 

Have any of you ever been speaking to friends, family, or a spouse, and someone asks you to repeat what you said, or asked you to clarify, or immediately started to berate you until you had to explain that what you were explaining wasn’t what they thought you were saying?

 

All the time, right? The way you think is the way you write, but your audience is not in your head, and since you can’t clarify to them specifically after having written whatever it is that you’re writing, you must be able to provide cogent arguments, ideas, and events to a broad range of recipients who cannot question you.

 

Writing the first draft of your book, story, blog post, etc is the easy part. After you’ve written it, you have to edit, and I don’t mean adding commas or correcting misspelled words; I mean it’s time to rewrite your thoughts for people who don’t live inside your head, so that no mistakes of interpretation can be made.

 

This is the power of words, punctuation, sentence structure, paragraph form, and all facets of editing. A writer provides a sequential account of events. An editor works as an interpreter; they are someone who relates those events to a specific audience, but you can edit your own work if you learn to read your work as a reader.

 

To read your work as a reader, the most important step is to get away from whatever you’ve written for a few weeks, maybe even a few months. Then, go back and read it, and you will surely come across instances wherein you won’t even know what you were trying to say. Those will be obvious fixes, but there will more subtle instances of miscommunication, where something makes sense to you, but probably won’t make sense to anyone else, or it may just be open to interpretation.

 

It’s crazy, but no author out there thinks that what they’ve written can possibly be misconstrued, and that anyone who might misconstrue must be a dunce, so, okay, imagine that everyone is a dunce, that way you won’t leave any room for misinterpretation.

 

Everything you write, must be absolutely on point, and should leave no room for interpretation, but that means that you have to read and reread your work dozens of times, and it means that you have to scrutinize each word, each sentence, and each paragraph. Then, you have to make sure that each scene is supported by the paragraphs, and that each chapter begins and ends properly, and that no one in the world can come up with a reason that your story doesn’t work—plot holes; they’re killers!

 

If this sounds like too much work, hire an editor. There’s no shame in it. Every single mainstream writer is paired with editors. It’s how the entire publishing industry works. Do you really think you don’t need an editor? Think again.

 

Learn more here.

conjunctions and prepositions are freakin weird

This copied and pasted from my blog on Quora

Words, all words, are used to modify an idea. Words are used to interpret and present a molded block of thoughts, emotions, and ideas. Punctuation, grammar, sentence structure; these facets of writing and editing are in existence in order to best relay one person’s ideas, emotions, thoughts, and experiences to another. If the words aren’t used correctly, they create confusion, or they make no modifications at all. If the word isn’t making a modification, it must be cut when dealing with written language.

Conjunctions tie together clauses or ideas. That is how conjunctions mold and modify.

He was going to go to the store, but it was raining, so he stayed home.

Some will argue that one can start sentences with a conjunction. Sometimes one can do so, but keep in mind that by definition, conjunctions tie ideas together, so it might be senseless. Let’s begin with a comment left by a wonderful visitor on my personal blog:

“Actually, you can start a sentence with a conjunction according to the Chicago Manual of style. They encourage it. And for the publishing world, the Chicago Manual of style is the bible. But otherwise, I agree with you. Fragments are all too common in bestselling books these days. However, all those fragments sound awesome as an audiobook. The narrator is able to deliver them in rapid succession and keep the listener on the edge of her seat. It makes me wonder if this book was written for the reader or the listener because there is a difference. Forgive me for nettling you. I had to read the Chicago Manual of style in grad school cover to cover. So when I read your assertion, I flashed back to those terrible nights memorizing that tome (and fantasizing about using it as a weapon). Otherwise, you have an excellent post, sir. Have a wonderful weekend.”

To her comment, I replied:

“Thanks for commenting. I will never advise a writer to start a sentence outside of dialogue with a conjunction. I also won’t ever scorn a writer for doing so. I will scorn an editor for allowing it, though, especially when they forget to apply all the other rules. Such a thing has been drilled in us since the 1st grade–remember FANBOYS?–so starting with a conjunction, for me, is absolutely incorrect, and there are plenty of resources that solidify this proper application of rules.

“I understand fully what you mean about the pacing of those fragments in question when heard versus read, but the proper punctuation paired with a great performer will still have the same effect. In the end, my most prominent complaint is that this is a book. This is a book released by a fairly prestigious press. Editors have supposedly combed through it in order to present the reader–the buyer–a finished product, and it reads to me like a first draft, but the real issue is that this is happening with numerous books from numerous presses, and all the while, literary agents are telling new authors not to submit their MS without having it edited; so I ask: to what end?

“These editors, the ones employed by the big presses, are doing a terrible disservice to readers and writers alike, and all the while, they sit there, obviously not doing anything, and receiving sixty, seventy thousand dollars a year. Maybe more? It angers me, and I won’t stand for it.

“Thanks again for commenting. I cherish everyone’s opinion, and in the end, what really matters is that readers enjoy what they purchased. It’s to that end, however, that I will continue to provide people, who are interested, with the correct way of writing, so that our reading skills, writing skills, and speaking skills might begin to improve rather than decline.”

After that, I had to check The Chicago Manual of Style.

https://storiesbydennis.com?… This link is to that older post, and there you will actually see pictures from The Chicago Manual of Style. I then typed it all out, and guess what? Nowhere does it encourage such behavior—starting a sentence with a conjunction.

This is exactly what the Manual states:

5.206 Beginning a sentence with a conjunction.

There is a widespread belief–one with no historical or grammatical foundation–that it is an error to begin a sentence with a conjunction such as and, but, or so. In fact, a substantial percentage (often as many as 10 percent) of the sentences in first-rate writing begin with conjunctions. It has been so for centuries, and even the most conservative grammarians have followed this practice. Charles Allen Lloyd’s 1938 words fairly sum up the situation as it stands even today:

Next to the groundless notion this it is incorrect to end an English sentence with a preposition, perhaps the most wide-spread of the many false beliefs about the use of our language is the equally groundless notion that it is incorrect to begin one with “but” or “and.” As in the case of the superstition about the prepositional ending, no textbook supports it, but apparently about half of our teachers of English go out of their way to handicap their pupils by inculcating it. One cannot help wondering whether those who teach such a monstrous doctrine ever read any English themselves.

Still, but as an adversative conjunction can occasionally be unclear at the beginning of a sentence. Evaluate the contrasting force of the but in question, and see whether the needed word is really and; if and can be substituted, then but is certainly the wrong word. Consider this example: He went to school this morning. But he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table. Between those sentences is an elliptical idea, since the two actions are in no way contradictory. What is implied is something like this: He went to school, intending to have lunch there, but he left his lunch behind. Because and would have made sense in the passage as originally stated, but is not the right word–the idea for the contrastive but should be explicit. To sum up, then, but is a perfectly proper word to open a sentence, but only if that idea it introduces truly contrasts with what precedes. For that matter, but is often an effective word for introducing a paragraph that develops an idea contrary to the one preceding it.

That is the end of this moron’s rant from within The Chicago Manual of Style.

Did you notice he never once started with a conjunction?! Amazing, right? I never read a rule that states you don’t use two articles before a noun either, but it’s generally accepted that such a thing is wrong, right?

You never write: The a duck quacked. Right?

Now, let’s really explore this conjunction business.

To begin with, it is stated that a single person–Lloyd–feels it is alright to start a sentence with a conjunction–one guy! Second, he makes a completely incorrect assumption within his own context.

Evaluate the contrasting force of the but in question, and see whether the needed word is really and; if and can be substituted, then but is certainly the wrong word. Consider this example: He went to school this morning. But he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table. Between those sentences is an elliptical idea, since the two actions are in no way contradictory. What is implied is something like this: He went to school, intending to have lunch there, but he left his lunch behind.

First of all, but is not always but. Sometimes, but can be replaced by however, or except, or yet, so it is imperative to know what you mean when you write but. Second, the correct sentence is: He went to school, but he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table.

Now, now, that the but in question is separated by the comma, and it is no longer the beginning of the sentence, everything Lloyd said becomes moot, hence; you do not start a sentence with but. That solves everything that moron just said regarding but and and. All the confusion is over! Furthermore, starting with a conjunction: But he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table is not a sentence. It isn’t even a fragment because the main clause, and the only clause, is: He left his lunchbox on the kitchen table.

Thus, because of the of the fact that first sentence ends, the second sentence is no longer modified by the conjunction but, which means the second sentence—the second clause—is not only no longer modifying the first clause, but the second clause, which is supposed to be a sub-clause, is also no longer modified by the conjunction (its own conjunction), which is why but must be dropped or tied into the original clause by way of a comma preceding the conjunction.

He went to school this morning, but he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table.

Beyond that, to say that his two broken sentences imply the following: Between those sentences is an elliptical idea, since the two actions are in no way contradictory. What is implied is something like this: He went to school, intending to have lunch there, but he left his lunch behind. No, it isn’t.

What’s implied is that on every other occasion that he went to school, he brought his lunchbox. This time, however, he did not bring it. That’s what’s implied and nothing else. More might be inferred by you, the reader, but nothing else is stated or implied. Lloyd is a complete moron who doesn’t understand the English language.

It’s clear to me, that Lloyd is implying that his second sentence could have been started with However, and in that case, he would be right because However isn’t one of the FANBOYS conjunctions with which we do not usually start a sentence.

The sentence in question then becomes: However, he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table.

I do believe such a sentence is acceptable, but I suggest one finds a better way to write it in prose.

Now, let’s get back to something else that was presented: In fact, a substantial percentage (often as many as 10 percent) of the sentences in first-rate writing begin with conjunctions.

10% is hardly substantial! Moreover, who decides what is first-rate writing? Which books are we referencing specifically? Which authors? On top of that, are we discussing those 10% of sentences all of which are dialogue? Are the conjunctions in question actually conjunctions?

You do not start a sentence with a conjunction if it can be avoided. It’s that simple. If you hire me as an editor, I will tell you not to do it unless it is absolutely unavoidable.

Now, let’s find out exactly what’s going on with these crazy conjunctions. Remember, they are used to tie together clauses. They can’t tie anything together if they aren’t part of the same sentence, if they are at the beginning of a clause!

He was going to go to the store. But it was raining. So he stayed home.

Those conjunctions aren’t doing anything by being at the beginning of those sentences. That’s why they shouldn’t be there.

He was going to go to the store. It was raining. He stayed home.

That’s the same exact information, so why the use of conjunctions?

For one, properly employing conjunctions to tie ideas together sounds better to the ear than the preceding example. Two, using conjunctions allows a reader to glean more complex information out of one single sentence. However, if writers are going to use conjunctions, they must use them properly.

He was going to go to the store, but it was raining, so he stayed home.

That’s the right way to write that single sentence with the conjunctions. There are, however, instances where such a thing, beginning with a conjunction, is permissible.

For a big man, he moved with grace.

For is a conjunction, and it is one of the FANBOYS conjunctions, but it isn’t acting like a conjunction in that sentence. It is not conjoining ideas or clauses. Why use it then? What is it doing?

A big man, he moved with grace.

Well that’s not a sentence! In the above example, removing the conjunction obliterates the sentence. It no longer makes sense. For, however, is not acting like a conjunction in that example; it’s like the letter Y, which is not always a vowel. In the case above, For is directly linked to the other words: a big man. Together, they form a restrictive element of sorts, which states something important. It’s the same with the word as.

As far as he knew, it was a solid, business investment.

So you see, (I started with a conjunction) it’s important to understand when a conjunction is really conjunction. I believe that was the point Lloyd was trying to make in his clumsy way, but the thing is that I’m writing this post in the same manner that I speak to people. I am not writing this post as prose in a novel.

When it comes to writing a novel, a journal article, a report of some kind, there may well be a better way to present the information, and that’s where an editor comes in handy. An editor needs to make certain that prose doesn’t sound like dialogue. (Unless, of course, that’s the author’s wish. Nevertheless, don’t begin a sentence with a modifier that isn’t modifying anything.)

For a big man, he moved with grace.

Perhaps, a better way to write that sentence is the following: Although he was a big man, he moved with grace. For all intents and purposes, that’s the correct way to write out the idea that regardless, and in fact, surprisingly, a big man moved gracefully.

Now, we all know although is a conjunction, but it is not one of the conjunctions that pertain to FANBOYS, which are also considered coordinators, and this is a great distinction to make.

Coordinators express a relationship between related words, phrases, or clauses, without which, a reader is left to draw their own conclusions; another point Lloyd tried to make. If such a coordinator is placed at the beginning of a sentence, how and where is it expressing that relationship?! Do you see?! It becomes useless and shouldn’t be there because it isn’t doing anything. That’s the rule; don’t use a word that isn’t doing anything.

The but in but he stayed home, isn’t relating anything to anything else. The although in although he was a big man, is relating the girth of the man with his ability to move with grace. However, it might still be presented in a more efficient manner.

Considering that he was a big man, he moved gracefully.

That’s dead on, but will it work for your novel? Will it work for your voice? Will it work for that particular scene or paragraph? Will that phrase stand alone, or will there be other phrases? Let’s look:

John was a ballet dancer. At six feet tall, he weighed a whopping three hundred pounds. For a big man, he moved with grace.

That’s an entire paragraph, and since the last sentence is the one starting with the conjunction, I advise against using that particular conjunction; in fact, I advise writing that whole paragraph in a different fashion.

Despite his being six feet tall and three hundred pounds, John was a graceful ballet dancer.

See, now we’re back to showing versus telling and less is more. I can now provide much more detail, much more story, in the paragraph because I’ve only used one sentence.

Despite his being six feet tall and three hundred pounds, John was a graceful ballet dancer. He had trained with the famous Russian performer, Mikhail Baryshnikov, so it was no wonder the hefty dancer moved so artfully. On the stage, John was like magic in motion.

I still have only three sentences there. Which paragraph is better? The second one, right? Why? I utilized correct writing.

Are we on board? Are we staring to understand why one avoids the use of opening sentences with conjunctions? What must be asked when opening a sentence with a conjunctions is: is my conjunction modifying the sentence in which it has been placed?

If the answer is no then the conjunction should either be removed, or the previous sentence, the one actually being modified, should not have ended.

To switch tactics, I want to point out that Lloyd also argued it isn’t incorrect to end a sentence with a preposition, but then, what is a preposition? What does it do?

A preposition acts as a reference. It is a governing word that expresses a relation to another element within a clause. For example:

The man standing on the sidewalk wore a hat.

There is a relationship between the man and the sidewalk denoted by the word on. If the preposition is at the end of the sentence, it isn’t expressing the relationship; so what is it doing? Nothing, and that’s the rule. You don’t utilize a word that isn’t doing anything.

It was the sidewalk that man with the hat was standing on.

That’s wrong. On is no longer able to do its job.

It was the sidewalk on which the man with the hat was standing.

That’s the correct way to write that sentence, but it’s so ugly, right? That’s why we write: The man standing on the sidewalk wore a hat. Another example might be:

What are you talking about?

That phrase also ended with a preposition, and people certainly talk that way. I talk that way, but a writer shouldn’t write prose the way they speak. As a matter of fact, if one considers the meaning of the question, something interesting happens. Let’s see what I mean:

What are you talking about?

This question is actually asking to clarify some information, so more appropriately, one should write:

Of what do you speak?

What are you saying?

What are you trying to tell me?

Can you clarify?

Obviously, when writing dialogue, the idea is to present natural conversation; it makes the characters real, relatable, and genuine, and dialogue shouldn’t sound like prose. Anyone who speaks to you with the above phrases sounds like a pretentious douche, right? This is why I always state that dialogue can break most rules of English writing.

If you start talking to me about physics, and I don’t get what you’re saying, I’ll ask: What are you talking about? As a writer, however, it becomes my responsibility to provide clear information, which is to say, it’s my job to prevent a reader from inferring or drawing their own conclusions. When I write prose, my readers have no choice but to grasp the information I provide the way I intend for it to be processed.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t utilize plot twists, which force a reader to believe in an event that hasn’t actually occurred. It just means that when I want to portray confusion, I’ll confuse the reader without their knowing they’ve been confused, not by utilizing poor and confusing writing elements, but quite the contrary, by employing the correct writing elements.

Now, that said, while I write my story, I certainly type it out in the same manner I speak, the same manner I think; writing is just the art of putting thoughts into words, and that’s fine. At the end of my first draft, everything I complain about in my posts is present, but it’s during the editing process that I fix everything, so that everything presented is presented in an accurate and correct manner; this is why writers use editors. This is why the big publishers use editors. This is why literary agents demand edited manuscripts. This is also why I’m so mad about this editing business, these novels that aren’t properly edited, and these publishers who are crapping all over the English language; and then there’s all the misinformation circulating!

Many writers don’t have a stomach for editing. There’s nothing wrong with that. Many editors lack the creativity to write enrapturing stories. There’s nothing wrong with that either. It’s imperative that a creative writer is paired with a technical editor, and sometimes it’s imperative that a technical writer is paired with a creative editor; not all writers and editors can collaborate effectively. That’s why writers need to shop for the right editor.

Now, there are some writers, great writers, who are neither creative nor technical. They can’t write their way out of a paper bag, but that doesn’t stop them from being successful. If they have an interesting story, they just need extra help transforming the accounts of the story into an experience.

None of this, however, is an excuse for releasing a poorly written novel, and then charging the audience, and that’s precisely what aggravates the crap out of me. You’ve all read my posts in which I chew out both indie titles and mainstream titles, and it’s because those publishers either didn’t hire an editor at all, or the editors who lent their “expertise” didn’t know what they were doing.

That’s not to say that the story hidden amidst the mess isn’t worth reading, but it just isn’t right to charge someone for a novel that reads like a first draft. Editors today make big, big money, and a lot of them aren’t doing their job, and now, it’s becoming increasingly acceptable to release, promote, and sell poor writing. On top of that, many indie writers or debut writers are being shot down by literary agents and publishers because their manuscript isn’t properly edited, but what’s the point? The publishers turn a properly edited manuscript into dreck with their own editors!

Maybe I’m wrong to criticize those writers, editors, and publishers if readers enjoy the dreck, or maybe those readers don’t know any better because everything out on the market today is crap. If you’ve grown up eating fast food your whole life, you won’t know how much better fine dining is, right? If you’ve ever only worn clothes by Banana Republic, you won’t know the quality of Armani, right?

Now, I get it; there’s nothing wrong with liking what you like. Some people love cheeseburgers and don’t give a crap about seared ahi tuna. Some people love their Old Navy skinny chinos and don’t give a crap about wearing Armani. I get it. All I’m trying to do is let people know that there is a right way to write, and a wrong way, and what the difference is. I’m not suggesting to you what to enjoy or what more often sells.

I’m just very passionate about the written word, and it is my sincere belief that someone needs to stand up and show people the right way to write and edit, and why the right way is superior to the crap out on the market. In the end, if you don’t like my style, if you don’t like the correct way to write, that’s okay, but maybe you just didn’t know any better until I came along.

If you’re reading this, and you’re a reader who loves the books I call crap, that’s great. I’m very glad that you enjoyed your little vacation, which is what a novel is supposed to be, a reprieve from the hum-drum of reality. I’m glad you don’t feel ripped off by the poor writing. It’s your satisfaction that matters. I said it last time: we writers are a fart in the wind without you readers, and I will always cherish your opinions.

However, have you tried reading books that are well written? Have you, by chance, read a book that everyone loves and wondered why, all the while thinking, it reads like crap! Maybe that’s because you have a more refined palate and care for superior storytelling.

If you’re reading this, and you’re a writer who thinks the rules don’t apply to your writing, I won’t dream of telling you that you must do as I say. If your novels are selling like hotcakes and all your readers adore your books then that’s just aces. I’m very glad for you. I want everyone to succeed, especially when doing what they enjoy.

If you’re reading this, and you’re a writer who is wondering why other writers give you great reviews but readers are giving you scathing reviews, maybe it’s because you’re in need of a competent editor. There’s no shame in that. Most people can’t create a work of art all on their own. Writers usually need a cover artist, an editor, proof readers, promoters, reviewers, and publishers; that’s why there’s an entire industry built on publishing books, but that’s exactly my point: an entire industry must be able to release quality writing, or they are doing their audience a disservice, especially considering just how much they are charging for their e-books and how much overhead they are keeping from their writers.

However, if no one is pointing this out to anyone then the problem will remain unsolved. I am trying to solve that problem.

If you’re an editor, and you’re reading this, I sincerely implore you to comment, for better or worse; if you find my ideas invalid or erroneous, I’d certainly like to hear to your opinion. Perhaps, you agree with me. In that case, please comment, and show your support for quality writing.

If you’re a publisher reading this, you need to get on the ball. Your job is to consistently release quality content to consumers. Your job is also to help writers sound like they know their craft. Editors are supposed to be the unsung heroes, the ones behind the scenes, right? Haven’t you wondered why more and more people are going the indie route? It isn’t because the artists can’t hold up to your standards. It isn’t because the consumers are dumb. It’s because everyone is getting tired of purchasing indolent garbage at an outrageous price.

Look at the indie market. Movies are going indie. Actors, producers, screen writers, and musicians are going indie. Programmers are going indie. Comic book artists and writers are going indie. Directors and video editors are going indie. It isn’t because they can’t hack it in the major leagues. There are numerous indie platforms, and indie artists are collaborating with indie reviewers, promoters, and publishers because the audience is screaming for quality content. They want something new. They demand something of quality.

The dinosaur mentality of I been doin’ this thirty years has come to an end. People are waking up. People want to feel like they received their money’s worth. New artists of all shapes and sizes are taking the world by storm. Not only am I one of them, but I want to help others in the same boat.

That’s precisely why I’m offering my editing services. For one, I will continue to provide tips through my blogs, so those writers out there who only need a new perspective can read, for free, my advice and explanations and move on.

Two, I’ll continue to answer questions on Quora, although I’ll be referring everyone more and more often to this blog. Moreover, Quora has begun to flag my answers because I sometimes refer people to other sites. I thought we were supposed to do that in order to prove that our answers are valid, but the moderators want to be turds, so I’ll be answering fewer questions. If you have a question, ask it on the blog in the comments section, and I’ll answer.

Three, I’m providing readers with a better experience. I’m trying to show them that if they don’t like the mainstream mess, there is an alternative.

Four, for those writers out there who love to write, but hate editing, they can find someone they trust who understands how best to provide information—a reading experience. They can read through all of my posts, and if they like what I’m puttin’ down, they can hire me to clean up their work, and make it presentable.

If you disagree, if you don’t like me, if you’ve got it all figured out, great; I’m happy for you. If you’re successful then you don’t need me. Move on. If, on the other hand, you’re just starting out, or you’ve been at the game for a while and haven’t made much headway, I want you to know you have a friend in me. I’m right here, and you can even hire me.

Thanks, everyone, for reading. Stay tuned for next week’s post. I’ll be discussing how to come up with an idea for writing your first story. My website is in my profile. I’d hate to get flagged again by Quora vigilants. Thanks again.

Bt dubbz, Quora is giving me a hard time, and they’re even automatically collapsing my answers.

Make sure to check out my editing services tab, too!

Editing One Shot by Lee Child

self aggrandizing aaron

Why am I editing One Shot by Lee Child?

Because Delacorte Press, who is selling this abortion at $9.99 is destroying the written word.

Let’s look.

Friday. Five o’clock in the afternoon. Maybe the hardest time to move unobserved through the city. Or maybe the easiest. Because at five o’clock on a Friday nobody pays attention to anything. Except the road ahead.

The man with the rifle drove north. Not fast, not slow. Not drawing attention. Not standing out. He was in a light-colored minivan that had seen better days. He was alone behind the wheel. He was wearing a light-colored raincoat and the kind of shapeless light-colored beanie hat that old guys wear on the golf course when the sun is out or the rain is falling. The hat had a two-tone red band all around it. It was pulled down low. The coat was buttoned up high. The man was wearing sunglasses, even though the van had dark windows and the sky was cloudy. And he was wearing gloves, even though winter was three months away and the weather wasn’t cold.

Traffic slowed to a crawl where First Street started up a hill. Then it sopped completely where two lanes became one because the blacktop was torn up for construction. There was construction all over town. Driving had been a nightmare for a year. Holes in the road, gravel trucks, concrete trucks, blacktop spreaders. The man with the rifle lifted his hand off the wheel. Pulled back his cuff. Checked his watch.

Are you freaking kidding me?!

Everything about this writing is absolutely atrocious.

First, Friday, is not a sentence. Second, neither is Five o’clock in the afternoon; this entire thing is riddled with sentence fragments, and one doesn’t start a sentence with a conjunction, so the sentence or maybe the easiest, is also wrong. Furthermore, the paragraph meanders into and out of numerous ideas. Also, the tenses are confused. These three paragraphs are some of the worst writing I have ever seen.

We are given tons of useless information and out of sequence. Moreover, the level of writing is that of a 5th grader. How many staccato sentences started with the or he? How many broken ideas were provided over and over?

Normally, when a writer finishes a manuscript, they hire an editor, and the editor fixes all these discrepancies. Then, the writer submits the revised manuscript to a literary agent, who tries to find a publisher. If the agent finds a publisher, another team of editors is supposed to clean up the story even more to make it ready for the readers before publication. None of that seems to have happened here.

On top of the poor, physical structure and incorrect punctuation, a great deal of useless and redundant information is provided in a broken form, and still beyond that, there are numerous words reused, and all throughout several, choppy sentences.

This whole mess is what is ruining the art of writing, the joy of reading; people want to give indie writers a hard time for a lack of editing and poor storytelling, but this is One Shot, which became the movie Jack Reacher. I ask you, you writers, how does it feel to see this horrible writing receive praise? Readers, you just wait until after I edit this abomination.

****

Five o’clock on a Friday afternoon is the hardest time to move unobserved through the city, or quite possibly the easiest, since nobody pays attention to anything except the road ahead.

Bang, turned 6 sentence fragments into a single sentence, which rather than hinting at surreptitious behavior, it provides it point blank.

A man sat behind the wheel of a weather beaten mini van; his rifle was his sole companion as he drove north. In an effort to remain inconspicuous, he maintained the speed limit. Occasionally, he glanced through sunglasses, glossing over a multitude of vehicles.

Boom, separated the actual event from the mess regarding all the clothes he wore and why. Also, I set the mood by stating clearly that the man is acting surreptitiously. Everything we need to know is presented; he is alone, he has a rifle, he is on a packed road, and he is acting strangely.

Traffic slowed to crawl. Construction all up and down First Street cluttered the cars from a two lane blacktop to a busted up single lane. Tugging down on his newsy cap, the man peered over his shades and through darkened windows; work crews chatted while gravel trucks and asphalt spreaders lazily rode on by.

The man’s coat and the time of year doesn’t apply at this point in the story. The golf beanie to which Child referred isn’t a golf beanie at all; judging by the description, it is called a newsy cap, and it is the least of our concerns as readers. Moreover, we can now see the scene in all its glory; the road crew is out and traffic is muddled up; simplicity is key; simplicity is elegance. Readers aren’t stupid; they don’t need every, single, little, tiny detail listed off as minutia.

Forced to a stop, the man let out a huff, gripping his wheel tighter. The gloves covering his hands squeaked, and he shifted a finger from the wheel to fiddle with the top button of his rain jacket. A cloudy sky was certainly threatening rain, but a little water was of no concern; the eyes of men were, however, and he tugged his collar up, covering his cheek.

Rather than having everything light-colored, which is of no consequence, we see action. I have provided a scene rather than empty, sentence fragments, most of which started with the man, the hat, the van, the, the, the…. What I present is clearly a man trying to hide, and he his annoyed or perhaps worried by the mess on the street, which is important to point out, given the opening sentence, yet I have not kept readers at arms length by telling them these details; I have shown them. I even revealed that he isn’t covered up because of weather, but I stuck such a detail inside the key idea.

Gritting his teeth, the man slid back a beige sleeve to check his watch. It displayed Five O’ One. A minute down, and yet the road had sat in disrepair for a year.

With these two sentences, I gave readers a sense of urgency, which is presumably what the book intended, and still I mentioned that it had been a year since the road was under construction, not that it even matters; it isn’t relevant—how long it’s been under construction—all that is relevant is that it is currently under construction.

All of this is exactly what I mean when I say that writers provide a dry report of events, and editors turn those accounts into a story. It is unfortunate that such a great story has been mired beneath broken thoughts, and worse still that a large publisher and its editors can’t do their jobs, and perhaps the most devastating thing to us all is that this bad writing has become the norm; Dickens is certainly spinning in his grave.

Now, let’s put the two in sequence and see which is better.

****

Friday. Five o’clock in the afternoon. Maybe the hardest time to move unobserved through the city. Or maybe the easiest. Because at five o’clock on a Friday nobody pays attention to anything. Except the road ahead.

The man with the rifle drove north. Not fast, not slow. Not drawing attention. Not standing out. He was in a light-colored minivan that had seen better days. He was alone behind the wheel. He was wearing a light-colored raincoat and the kind of shapeless light-colored beanie hat that old guys wear on the golf course when the sun is out or the rain is falling. The hat had a two-tone red band all around it. It was pulled down low. The coat was buttoned up high. The man was wearing sunglasses, even though the van had dark windows and the sky was cloudy. And he was wearing gloves, even though winter was three months away and the weather wasn’t cold.

Traffic slowed to a crawl where First Street started up a hill. Then it sopped completely where two lanes became one because the blacktop was torn up for construction. There was construction all over town. Driving had been a nightmare for a year. Holes in the road, gravel trucks, concrete trucks, blacktop spreaders. The man with the rifle lifted his hand off the wheel. Pulled back his cuff. Checked his watch.

****

Five o’clock on a Friday afternoon is the hardest time to move unobserved through the city, or quite possibly the easiest, since nobody pays attention to anything except the road ahead.

A man sat behind the wheel of a weather beaten mini van; his rifle was his sole companion as he drove north. In an effort to remain inconspicuous, he maintained the speed limit. Occasionally, he glanced through sunglasses, glossing over a multitude of vehicles.

Traffic slowed to crawl. Construction all up and down First Street cluttered the cars from a two lane blacktop to a busted up single lane. Tugging down on his newsy cap, the man peered over his shades and through darkened windows; work crews chatted while gravel trucks and asphalt spreaders lazily rode on by.

Forced to a stop, the man let out a huff, gripping his wheel tighter. The gloves covering his hands squeaked, and he shifted a finger from the wheel to fiddle with the top button of his rain jacket. A cloudy sky was certainly threatening rain, but a little water was of no concern; the eyes of men were, however, and he tugged his collar up, covering his cheek.

Gritting his teeth, the man slid back a beige sleeve to check his watch. It displayed Five O’ One. A minute down, and yet the road had sat in disrepair for a year.

Thank you for reading. My apologies if my rage has spilled over to the screen, but I am outraged by horrendous writing, and even more so, by bad editing. To top it off, I am in loathing of the fact that numerous, indie writers present better looking (in terms of technical writing) manuscripts, yet literary agents turn them down, stating that they are in need of editing. WHY?! To wind up like this mess? Few indie stories I have read are written worse than this abortion, and more often, indie writers can’t even afford an editor, but what is the point? Even if they present a perfect manuscript, the publishers’ editors will reduce a brilliant manuscript to dreck.

Yes, I am steaming. Yes, I am venting on my blog. Someone has to let people know that this is NOT acceptable, and I have taken it upon myself to preserve the higher standard of story telling.

Thanks again. Next week, I’ll be coming down on showing versus telling…something the editors of One Shot clearly can’t comprehend.

EDIT: 12/10/2016 at 1:49pm

Due to the nature of the comment regarding that The Chicago Manual of Style promotes the use of starting sentences with a conjunction, I provide the following from The Sixteenth Edition of The Chicago Manual of Style:

1st

2nd

Nowhere does it promote such behavior. Now, in the event that the pictures are a bit difficult to see, I will also type out exactly what the Manual states.

5.206 Beginning a sentence with a conjunction. There is a widespread belief–one with no historical or grammatical foundation–that it is an error to begin a sentence with a conjunction such as and, but, or so. In fact, a substantial percentage (often as many as 10 percent) of the sentences in first-rate writing begin with conjunctions. It has been so for centuries, and even the most conservative grammarians have followed this practice. Charles Allen Lloyd’s 1938 words fairly sum up the situation as it stands even today:

Next to the groundless notion this it is incorrect to end an English sentence with a preposition, perhaps the most wide-spread of the many false beliefs about the use of our language is the equally groundless notion that it is incorrect to begin one with “but” or “and.” As in the case of the superstition about the prepositional ending, no textbook supports it, but apparently about half of our teachers of English go out of their way to handicap their pupils by inculcating it. One cannot help wondering whether those who teach such a monstrous doctrine ever read any English themselves.

Still, but as an adversative conjunction can occasionally be unclear at the beginning of a sentence. Evaluate the contrasting force of the but in question, and see whether the needed word is really and; if and can be substituted, then but is certainly the wrong word. Consider this example: He went to school this morning. But he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table. Between those sentences is an elliptical idea, since the two actions are in no way contradictory. What is implied is something like this: He went to school, intending to have lunch there, but he left his lunch behind. Because and would have made sense in the passage as originally stated, but  is not the right word–the idea for the contrastive but should be explicit. To sum up, then, but is a perfectly proper word to open a sentence, but only if that idea it introduces truly contrasts with what precedes. For that matter, but is often an effective word for introducing a paragraph that develops an idea contrary to the one preceding it.

That is the end of this moron’s rant. Did you notice he never once started with a conjunction?!?! Now, let me explain why this conjunction business is erroneous.

To begin with, it is stated that a single person–Lloyd–feels it is alright to start a sentence with a conjunction–one guy! Second, he makes a completely incorrect assumption within his own context.

Evaluate the contrasting force of the but in question, and see whether the needed word is really and; if and can be substituted, then but is certainly the wrong word. Consider this example: He went to school this morning. But he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table. Between those sentences is an elliptical idea, since the two actions are in no way contradictory. What is implied is something like this: He went to school, intending to have lunch there, but he left his lunch behind.

First of all, but is not always but. Sometimes, but can be replaced by however, or except, or yet, so it is imperative to know what you mean when you write but. Second, the correct sentence is: He went to school, but he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table.

Now, now, that the but in question is separated by the comma, and it is no longer the beginning of the sentence, everything Lloyd said becomes moot, hence; you do not start a sentence with a conjunction. That solves everything that moron just said. Furthermore, starting with a conjunction: But he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table is not a sentence. It isn’t even a fragment because the main clause, and the only clause, is: He left his lunchbox on the kitchen table.

Now, beyond that, to say that his two broken sentences imply the following: Between those sentences is an elliptical idea, since the two actions are in no way contradictory. What is implied is something like this: He went to school, intending to have lunch there, but he left his lunch behind.

No, it isn’t. What’s implied is that on every other occasion that he went to school, he brought his lunchbox. That’s what’s implied. Lloyd is a complete moron who doesn’t understand the English language.

It’s clear to me, that Lloyd is implying that his second sentence could have been started with However, and in that case, he would be right because however isn’t one of the FANBOYS conjunctions with which we do not start a sentence. The sentence then becomes: However, he left his lunchbox on the kitchen table.

Now, let’s get back to something else he said: In fact, a substantial percentage (often as many as 10 percent) of the sentences in first-rate writing begin with conjunctions.

10% is hardly substantial! Moreover, who decides what is first-rate writing? Which books is he talking about specifically? Which authors? On top of that, does he mean that 10% of sentences all of which are dialogue?

You do not start a sentence with a conjunction. It’s that simple. Don’t do it. If you hire me as an editor, I will tell you not to do it.

Visit my editing services tab, too!

A single sentence

Like a word, a single sentence can make or break a book. Books come in all forms; fiction, non-fiction, entertainment, information, third person omniscient, first person narrative, but the structure is basically the same.

A writer uses words to form a sentence, and the sentence is presented in order to define and clarify an idea, but there are some sentences that do the job better than others.

Last time, I made my point by showing how changing a single word in a sentence can elicit different imagery. This time, I want to show the first few sentences from an actual, published book.

I went to Amazon, and by utilizing the look inside feature, I was able to look at the following sentences from the introduction of Marion Gropen’s The Profitable Publisher: Making the Right Decisions.

The following are the first sentences:

Most publishing folks would rather have their teeth pulled than wade into their “numbers.” But, if you want to survive and thrive as a small press, you can’t afford to avoid the math. My aim here is to get you past any difficulties, painlessly. I’ve never found anyone who couldn’t learn this material. Nor have they ever needed anesthesia! You can do this. You may even enjoy it.

Where do I begin?

First and foremost, I want to point out the use of would and could. Both of these words make for weak writing. I can expound upon this for hours on end, and perhaps, for my next post, I will, but for now, let’s look at the core idea.

A single paragraph is designed to present a single idea, and the sentences within the paragraph are there to explain the idea in the most concise and cogent terms.

So, what’s the key idea, and how do these sentences make or break this book?

The idea is that with Gropen’s information, a small press can thrive. The insinuation is that a small, publishing press can’t survive without doing the math. Great, but let’s look at the first sentence.

Most publishing folks would rather have their teeth pulled than wade into their “numbers.”

First of all, this is a wild assumption. Second of all, using would signifies an if situation; this is not an assertion but a guess.

If people find themselves wading through numbers, they would rather have their teeth pulled.

Again, this is an assumption.

A better way to write this is:

No publisher enjoys wading through the numbers.

Then, why is numbers in quotations? It isn’t a quote. There’s no dialogue. I understand this is written as a first person narrative, so the author is talking to me, the reader, but then the whole thing requires quotations, and we just don’t do that. Furthermore, numbers isn’t slang, which benefits from an italicized font and not quotations anyway, but I’m deviating from my point, sort of; a sentence is more than what we hear, it’s also what we see, and the punctuation and grammar we use is used to provide the most direct information, especially in regards to an informative book.

This first sentence also dives right into the second sentence:

But, if you want to survive and thrive as a small press, you can’t afford to avoid the math.

I guess no one taught this author not to start a sentence with a conjunction. Did they forget FANBOYS?

A conjunction ties two ideas together, so, more appropriately, the first two sentences are a single, complex sentence:

Most publishing folks would rather have their teeth pulled than wade into their “numbers”, but if you want to survive and thrive as a small press, you can’t afford to avoid the math.

That’s the correct way to write this single sentence. The reason the first comma belongs outside the quotation marks is because what’s quoted isn’t dialogue, and needs to not be in quotations anyway. Secondly, you don’t put a comma after but. The comma goes before the conjunction. Now, I want to add that when we deal with dialogue, many of the rules go out the window, but I’ll deal with that in a later post.

So, we have instead:

Most publishing folks would rather have their teeth pulled than wade into their numbers, but if you want to survive and thrive as a small press, you can’t afford to avoid the math.

Now, that’s a big, bulky, clunky sentence. What’s it saying? It’s saying that publishers don’t want to deal with numbers because it’s unpleasant. Is it unpleasant? Maybe; let’s assume it is.

How does the following sentence sound?

No publisher enjoys wading through the numbers.

That says it all. It’s concise, it’s direct, it gives the reader no wiggle room; they know beyond a doubt, just by reading that first sentence, that working through numbers sucks.

So, let’s tackle the next sentence:

My aim here is to get you past any difficulties, painlessly.

I don’t know that here is required. Obviously, if reading this book, the aim is provided in here.

My aim is to get you past any difficulties, painlessly.

It works, but again, it sounds clunky.

How about:

Unfortunately, the math is crucial to a small press, but don’t fret; I’m going to show you what to do.

This complex sentence accompanies my first sentence, and it provides reassurance to the reader while reinforcing the original premise; doing the numbers sucks.

Next, the writer has the following:

I’ve never found anyone who couldn’t learn this material.

This raises questions; how many people have they taught, how many people have had trouble trying to get over the trouble of dealing with numbers, and if there’s no trouble involved in learning how to get over the difficulties of dealing with the numbers, why is there a whole book devoted to it?

Moreover, this sentence deals with something superfluous. The introduction originally stated that publishers don’t enjoy working through the numbers, and that the premise of the book was going to be about how to get past that difficulty, but this new sentence addresses the ease with which one can get past the difficulty of how difficult it can be to get past working with numbers. Did you get all that? Confusing, right?

Let’s just cut this sentence completely and move on to the next one:

Nor have they ever needed anesthesia!

Well, crapola; now we start a new sentence with another conjunction, which ties back into the premise that people would rather have teeth pulled than wade through numbers. There’s no need to reinforce a would be scenario, and since this is a fragment, we’ll just cut it, too.

Next, we have:

You can do this.

Okay, its’ a little positive reinforcement. That’s good, but why on earth is canboth italicized and bold?

Finally, we have:

You may even enjoy it.

Aha, but I may not enjoy it, eh? That just negated the previous, positive reinforcement, so we’ll cut that.

What do we have left then?

No publisher enjoys wading through the numbers. Unfortunately, the math is crucial to a small press, but don’t fret; I’m going to show you what to do. You can do this.

In this version, the final sentence breaks the flow of the paragraph, so you see how important a sequence of properly written sentences is.

A better way to write this is:

No publisher enjoys wading through the numbers. Unfortunately, the math is crucial to a small press, but don’t fret; I’m going to show you what to do. The following pages are filled with simple rules to follow, which will lead you and your small press to success. You can do this, and I’m going to help you.

Now, let’s be honest; which book are you more likely to read? Do you have a better understanding of the importance of proper sentences and how seemingly similar sentences can evoke totally different mindsets?

Thank you.

Visit my editing services, too!