{"id":737,"date":"2016-05-25T08:49:12","date_gmt":"2016-05-25T12:49:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/?p=737"},"modified":"2016-05-25T08:49:12","modified_gmt":"2016-05-25T12:49:12","slug":"condensation","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/2016\/05\/25\/condensation\/","title":{"rendered":"Condensation"},"content":{"rendered":"

On March 18, 2016, Kitty wrote, I\u2019m writing a short story for a contest, but I\u2019m 238 words over the 1,000 word limit, and I absolutely cannot cut any more. I\u2019ve used most of the tricks in the book, changing everything to contractions, cutting out fluff, and even cutting out a whole scene. The story is simple enough; spurred by a radio announcement of winning a mystery prize, 16 year old Nina takes her 5 year old sister Francesca (who\u2019s implied to be sick with an unspecified disease) to the radio station to claim the prize. The two girls have a discussion about what they would want to win, culminating with Francesca saying that she wants a pair of wings so that she can be lighter and not be a burden on her family (which a classmate has accused her of being, but Francesca, taking the word literally, as a heavy object, thinks that she just needs to be lighter, hence the need for wings) and Nina\u2019s response. I\u2019ve kept the description down to a minimum, but I feel like if I cut anymore description I\u2019ll lose some of the emotional poignancy. Gahh\u2026cutting 800 words was easy, but now that I\u2019m down to the last 200s I\u2019m having a really hard time. Any advice?<\/em><\/p>\n

Lots of you had thoughts.<\/p>\n

Christie V Powell: Do you have a beta-reader who can help? It seems like at this point you might need a fresh set of eyes.<\/em><\/p>\n

Emma: When I was writing for my short story contest, I started out with a great idea, and went with it. It was going great, and I was loving where it was heading\u2026 until I saw the word count at the bottom of the screen. The word count was 891, and I wasn\u2019t even close to finishing (the word limit was 1,000, by the way). It made me really mad at first, because I really wanted to use the story, but I loved the story I had created too much to change it. I knew that if I took away too much, it wouldn\u2019t be nearly as good as I wanted it to be. So I started a new story. Now, I had about five days to a week until the deadline to send it in, which was cutting it pretty close, so I suggest that if you have less than five days to work with, don\u2019t start over on a new story. Anyway, I wrote my new short story, which I came to love just as much as the 1st one. By the time I got to the end, I was 24 words over the limit. After editing, I finished with 988 words.<\/em><\/p>\n

So I said all that to say that if you have time, it\u2019s ok to start on a new short story. It may surprise you that you may even like the new story you come up with just as much. Also, since, from what it sounds like, you are very happy with your story and don\u2019t want to strip it of all the good stuff, you may want to leave it the way it is so you can develop the story more without worrying about the word count. If starting on a completely new short story kind of scares you, don\u2019t let it. That\u2019s what I did, and guess what? I won 1st in the contest I entered it in. Hope all this helps, and I hope the contest goes well, whatever you decide to do!<\/em><\/p>\n

Song4myKing: I have a similar problem with a novel. I\u2019ve read that YA novels are generally 50,000 to 90,000 words and I realized that at 106,000 words, I needed to trim mine down. So I did, taking into consideration comments from my \u201cbeta readers\u201d and cutting not-so-needed scenes, paragraphs, and words. I got it down to 98,000 words, but I don\u2019t think I can cut much more and keep the same story. That might not be so bad, except that there\u2019s a publisher that I\u2019d really like to send it to. The publisher is one of the few with the right audience who accepts unsolicited manuscripts. But I see on their submissions page, that they expect YA fiction to be 30,000 to 60,000. Now I\u2019m trying to decide if I should send it anyway, or skip it, or try splitting my novel into two (which would be difficult, after all this time trying to make it one cohesive whole!).<\/em><\/p>\n

Melissa Mead: If the guidelines say 30,000-60,000, I wouldn\u2019t send them a 98,000 word novel. Ignoring guidelines is one of the quickest ways to get cut, especially for new writers. And splitting the novel into 2 books would mean trying to sell 2 books, not just one. This may not be the right story for this market (or vice versa).<\/em><\/p>\n

And me: This publisher accepts unsolicited manuscripts? If yes, I agree with Melissa. But if you\u2019re going to send a query and sample chapter, then I\u2019d say, go ahead. If there\u2019s interest, you can say then that the manuscript exceeds length expectations and ask if they\u2019d still like to see it. In that circumstance the answer may be yes.<\/em><\/p>\n

Now for my longer answer. I like the beta reader suggestion. We can ask a reader to note places that can be condensed, spots where her attention wandered\u2013and to say why if she can.<\/p>\n

Recently, I read the first chapter of my WIP to the audience at a book signing. I told them beforehand that I would know if and when they got bored. Alas, they did get bored, and I did know. The quality of the silence changed. I could also tell when they snapped back to attention. I trimmed the chapter\u00a0accordingly.<\/p>\n

You can try this, too. Assemble a few friends or family and read to them, not a whole novel, obviously, but a chunk that you\u2019re wondering about. Or, a little over 1,000 words of a short story isn\u2019t too much. A couple of warnings, though. You have to read loud enough for your audience to hear you effortlessly. And don\u2019t read with a lot of expression. If you\u2019re a talented reader, you may get them past the dull spots by the drama in your performance, and, for this purpose, you don\u2019t want that.<\/p>\n

This topic is dear to my heart. When I revise, even while writing a\u00a0first draft, the thing I do most is cut. I just compared word counts between my latest draft of The Lost Kingdom of Bamarre<\/em> and my first draft. The shrinkage was from 105,000 words to 71,000, more than twenty-five percent. I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever produced a final draft of a novel without cutting more than a hundred pages. (Of course, it would be nice if I didn\u2019t have to, if I knew what I needed and didn\u2019t need right off the bat. Sigh,)<\/p>\n

Just saying, there are famous authors, who have enormous careers, whose work I can\u2019t read because I\u2019m mentally crossing out words and phrases as I go until I close the book five pages in. I like lean prose. And whether or not we\u2019re writing for a contest or a publisher\u2019s guidelines or just for our own project, we want our story to zip along. We should go through this trimming process for everything (except, perhaps, we can skip turning whatever\u00a0we can into a contraction).<\/p>\n

How do we get there?<\/p>\n

On a micro level, we should question our adjectives and adverbs to see if we need them. The muscle parts of speech in English are nouns and verbs. For example, examine<\/em> or scrutinize<\/em>\u00a0is better than look closely<\/em>. I\u2019d especially check\u00a0and probably excise any uses of very<\/em>. A pet peeve of mine is the word suddenly<\/em> (or the phrase all of a sudden<\/em>), which usually isn\u2019t needed.<\/p>\n

We can look at our passive constructions, as in, There were a thousand lemmings, galloping toward the cliff<\/em>. Better and shorter would be A thousand lemmings galloped toward the cliff<\/em>. Sometimes we need a passive sentence, but often we can rephrase. We can find these constructions by searching for the word there<\/em>.<\/p>\n

We can trim prepositions. Take my sentence above: The muscle parts of speech in English are nouns and verbs.<\/em> Two prepositions, of<\/em> and\u00a0in<\/em>. I can revise to get shorter and punchier, combining this sentence with the previous one like this: On a micro level, we should question our adjectives and adverbs to see if we need them, because nouns and verbs pack the most power<\/em>. No prepositions in the last clause. To see how prepositions clog up prose, take a look at the writing that emanates from bureaucracies, like instructional manuals, mission statements, textbooks. You\u2019ll see that much of it is\u00a0stuffed with prepositions. Yawn.<\/p>\n

Another pet peeve is could\/can<\/em> (depending on tense). Here\u2019s an example: Bethany could see her pet lemming Horace join the throng heading for the cliff<\/em>. If she could see<\/em> Horace then she saw<\/em> him. One fewer word. I notice this could\/can<\/em> thing often and sometimes fall into it myself.<\/p>\n

On a macro level, we can question every secondary character. What role is this guy playing in our plot? Can another character take his mission\u00a0on in addition to the other things she has to do?<\/p>\n

Have we repeated an action? For example, in Lost Kingdom<\/em>, Perry has to get away from a fix. She has an eventual destination in mind, but I added an intermediate way station, which she also has to reach, and this bogged everything down. I had my reasons, but I can\u2019t remember them, because as soon as I made her go straight where she needed to wind up, the reasons evaporated.<\/p>\n

We can evaluate every scene, which Kitty and Song4myKing say they\u2019ve done, but it\u2019s still worth mentioning. As we did with characters, can we merge two scenes if we need elements of each one?<\/p>\n

Have we included background that we can sneak into the story as it unfolds? Do we need all of it anyway?<\/p>\n

Same with world-building. Do we have info dumps when all action stops? Are they essential, or can the knowledge be imparted more economically and more organically? Are we failing to give\u00a0our readers credit for being able to figure some things out?<\/p>\n

Can we summarize a part where not much happens? Suppose, for example, a few years have to pass. Maybe our MC has to get a little older. Can we move from showing to telling to get us through this period, name a few highlights, and jump to\u00a0the new time?<\/p>\n

Having said all this, I agree with Emma that a particular story may need more room to be told, and that need, for the sake of literary excellence, is paramount. We serve our stories. Our next idea may be more compact and may be more suited to a shorter word count.<\/p>\n

I also agree with Melissa Mead that we need to meet a publisher\u2019s guidelines, but we can keep in mind that the guidelines may be stupid, even while we fulfill them. When I was still unpublished, a mentor at a conference warned me that my manuscript\u2013Ella<\/em>\u2013had better be under 200 pages. It wasn\u2019t, but it was close. A year or so later, the very much longer first Harry Potter book wowed the kid lit world and changed the standards for middle-grade fiction.<\/p>\n

Here are three prompts:<\/p>\n

\u2219 Below is the beginning of Dickens\u2019s \u201cA Christmas Carol.\u201d There is plenty to cut, so go at it . Put these paragraphs on a diet. I suggest trying it two ways. Try anorexic. Then approach it as an abridger might, keeping the flavor of the original, but slimmer.<\/p>\n

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge’s name was good upon ‘Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.<\/em><\/p>\n

Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don’t know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnised it with an undoubted bargain.<\/em><\/p>\n

The mention of Marley’s funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet’s Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot — say Saint Paul’s Churchyard for instance — literally to astonish his son’s weak mind.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u2219 I was recently asked to write a version of \u201cThe Ugly Duckling\u201d for a textbook publisher, which will be used with first graders at the beginning of the school year, so it will be one of their first reading experiences. My version had to be under 200 words. There were other requirements as well. The children would be learning the short i<\/em>\u00a0sound, so I needed as many words as possible with that sound. Most of the sentences had to be short enough to fit on a single line. Words needed to be easy. I was to include time references. The children couldn’t handle quotation marks, so no dialogue per se, although there will be sort of dialogue\u00a0in cartoon word balloons when the story is illustrated. And I added another constraint. The original \u201cUgly Duckling\u201d is morally challenged, in my opinion. The poor duckling isn\u2019t acceptable until he turns out beautiful. And there\u2019s a subtler message, too: stick with your own kind, ducks with ducks, swans with swans. So I wanted to fix all that.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m pleased that I managed it, including the word count, and I\u2019ve been getting edits that will make the selection even easier. I\u2019ve never written for this age to read to themselves, so it was an interesting challenge, which I\u2019m passing along to you. Try another Hans Christian Anderson story, \u201cThe Princess and the Pea.\u201d Tell it in under 200 words or as close as you can. You can include any of the other requirements I had, too, if you like.<\/p>\n

\u2219 Revisit a page of a finished story or a WIP of yours and trim it using the strategies above.<\/p>\n

Have fun, and save what you write!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On March 18, 2016, Kitty wrote, I\u2019m writing a short story for a contest, but I\u2019m 238 words over the 1,000 word limit, and I absolutely cannot cut any more. I\u2019ve used most of the tricks in the book, changing everything to contractions, cutting out fluff, and even cutting out a whole scene. The story […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[303],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=737"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":740,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737\/revisions\/740"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=737"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=737"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=737"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}