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Seminars
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Editing &
Revising Techniques
“Use
five techniques of style to revise”
“If
you’re editing only on screen, you’re missing the big picture”
“Keep
a scrap file when winnowing down to a specified length”
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Use five techniques of style to
revise
By Stephen Wilbers
Author of 1,000 columns
published in the Minneapolis Star Tribune & elsewhere
After you’ve drafted your message, what do you do? If you’re like most
writers, you read it over, check for typos, and send it on its way.
Instead of this hit-or-miss approach to revising, I recommend you review
your copy more systematically by using five techniques of style:
Make every word count.
As Strunk and White advise in their classic little book, The Elements
of Style, “Omit needless words.” The foundation of a good style is
economy of language. Change until such time as to until.
Change during the course of to during.
Prefer action verbs to nouns.
Check your draft for nominalizations, or verbs made into nouns, and change
them back to verbs. Change “It’s important for you to make a connection
with your audience” to “It’s important for you to connect with your
audience.” Change “Please take under consideration my proposal” to “Please
consider my proposal.”
Don’t
trust modifiers.
Both Mark Twain and Ernest Hemingway offered this advice. They didn’t say
don’t use modifiers; they said use them carefully. They’re the trickiest
part of speech to use well. Change end result to result, general
consensus to consensus, terrible tragedy to tragedy, and
personal opinion to opinion.
Trim sentence endings to create
emphasis.
To take advantage of the natural stress point at the ending of each
sentence, trim excess words. Change “We need to respond to the complaints
that are occurring” to “We need to respond to these complaints.” Change
“Let’s listen to the ideas our customers are offering to us” to “Let’s
listen to our customers’ ideas.”
Take advantage of opening
prominence.
Sometimes the wording can be rearranged to take advantage of opening
emphasis. Change “She blamed her colleague once again for the error” to
“Once again she blamed her colleague for the error.” Change “Customer
service is even more important” to “Even more important is customer
service.”
Obviously, these applying these five techniques improves the writing in
the examples above, but how much of a difference do they make in an actual
message? Compare the following passages:
“The end result of disregarding our shareholders’ concerns may be
disastrous in nature. In the event that you are unable to attend the
meeting, please put in a call to me. It is my recommendation that we have
a good discussion of the changes that have taken place recently, take
under consideration their financial implications, and undertake a study of
the possible harm they might do to future sales. We need to take action in
with all due alacrity given the volatility of the marketplace that we are
presently experiencing. Our shareholders as always deserve the utmost
accountability.”
“The result of disregarding our shareholders’ concerns may be disastrous.
If you are unable to attend the meeting, please call me. I recommend we
discuss the recent changes, consider their financial implications, and
study how they might harm future sales. Given the volatile marketplace, we
need to act quickly. As always, our shareholders deserve accountability.”
Can you hear a difference? |
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If you’re editing only on
screen, you’re missing the big picture
By Stephen Wilbers
Author of 1,000 columns
published in the Minneapolis Star Tribune & elsewhere
Dear
editors:
My apologies for submitting this column
late. I know you prefer to receive my column a week earlier than I’m
sending this one. Please forgive my delay. I’ve been frantically busy --
editing.
Not this column (although I will edit it
before I send it to you, I promise), but a 52,840-word manuscript. I have
a book deadline. Tomorrow.
As you know better than anyone, no
matter how carefully you edit and proofread, no matter how many times you
work your way through 150 pages of text, you still miss things. A dozen
people have read my manuscript, four with an eye to proofreading errors,
and I still found two little typos in a single sentence as I went through
my copy. I know there are other errors and plenty of sentences that could
be better written, but deadlines are ... Well, you know what I mean.
Sorry.
Part of the problem, of course, is
editing and proofreading on screen rather than on paper. As you know, it’s
not the same. You see things on paper you don’t see on screen, and vice
versa. On screen you get all those little prompts and aids, red and green
wavy lines and auto-correct spelling. On paper you see your text more
clearly, with less tendency to skip over individual words. Somehow text
counts more and seems more real when you print it out. (I print my drafts
on the reverse side of used sheets to save paper.)
But it’s more than that. As I made
multiple passes through my manuscript, I realized my text read differently
according to how it was delivered to me.
When I revised on screen, my conceptual
frame was narrowed (it was limited literally by the size of my screen). As
a result, I saw it differently. I tended to revise according to what
worked well in a particular sentence or paragraph, with limited awareness
of how that change fit into the flow or broader framework of the entire
piece.
Similarly, I’ve noticed how cumbersome
it is to find a favorite sentence or passage on my Kindle, even though the
device allows me to search for individual words and phrases, and how much
easier it is to find something on paper. (Let’s see. It was about a third
of the way through the book, on the upper left page, in a fairly short
paragraph. There it is.)
So here’s what I’ve concluded:
Edit and proofread both on screen and
on paper.
When you change something on screen,
reread the entire paragraph to make certain you haven’t created a new
problem or introduced a new error.
When you edit on paper, mark your
revisions by hand and enter them later -- the moment you begin keying
things in, you alter (and narrow) your conceptual framework.
To move farther from the writer’s
perception and closer to reader’s experience, edit longer pieces on paper.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I better write
that column. Again, I apologize for the delay. I’ll do better next time. |
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Keep a scrap file when winnowing
down to a specified length
By Stephen Wilbers
Author of 1,000 columns
published in the Minneapolis Star Tribune & elsewhere
Nearly
every book on style offers the same advice: Make every word count.
Eliminate wordiness. Concise writing is the foundation of good writing.
"Omit needless words," William Strunk and
E. B. White advise in The Elements of Style. "2nd Draft = 1st Draft
- 10%," Stephen King writes in On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft.
Even yours truly identifies 14 patterns of wordiness in his
book on style. (Google "wilbers
wordiness" for a set of
free exercises illustrating these
patterns.)
In the 21 years I’ve been writing this
column, nothing has improved my writing more than – week after week, month
after month – eliminating unnecessary words to stay within my 500-word
limit. I know concise writing has more power and emphasis than wordy
writing – I teach that concept in my writing seminars – but it’s a lesson
I relearn with every column I write. Sometimes I delete just a word here
or there. (The first version of that sentence was, "Sometimes I delete
just a word here or a word there.") Sometimes I cut an entire paragraph
from my draft, and even if it’s a good paragraph, what remains is tighter
and stronger.
And then, invariably, as I check my word
count, I find I’ve cut too much. Typically my first draft comes in around
600 words, and then as I begin cutting, condensing, and compressing I end
up with around 450 words. It takes some fiddling to hit 500 words on the
nose. (The first version of that sentence read, "It takes some fiddling to
hit 500 words pretty much on the nose, give or take 5 or 10 words.")
What helps me bring it home is to go to
a scrap file of deletions I’ve kept along the way. My file allows me to
reconsider my cuts, evaluate their merit, and reinsert the text that seems
to contribute most significantly to the overall piece. In contrast to
recreating from memory something I’ve deleted and then decided to use,
working through my file is systematic, quick, and efficient.
There’s another benefit to keeping a
scrap file. Often in the process of drafting and revising, I’ll cut a
sentence or phrase I plan to use elsewhere. Sometimes I’ll forget I’m
"carrying" that text and then I’ll lose it when I cut something else on
top of it. Keeping a scrap pile allows me to safely park my text until I
find a home for it.
And now, as usual, having written a
draft for this column that was too long, and then having condensed it, I
find I’m 60 words short. Here’s a paragraph I parked in my scrap file:
"To identify the non-functioning
elements, I typically look in two areas: wordy expressions such as
until such time as for until or during the course of for
during, and unnecessary content that comes from telling the reader
something the reader would know without my saying it."
Let’s see. That was originally my fourth
paragraph. As soon as I reinsert it, I’ll be finished writing this column. |
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