The photo above is of a bush that is informally called Beauty Berry. Until I saw this photo, I didn’t understand how this nondescript plant got such a name.
I am currently ten chapters into the final polish on The Light Never Lies. This is a line-by-line edit with my final pre-publication reader – my husband Bruce. He brings a couple of valuable skills to this last round of editing – a nose for sniffing out discrepancies and an eye for spotting typos. Can’t complain about that, right?
Apparently, I can’t write that two people snuggled together happily in their bed with only the sound of the fire crackling in the living room of the cabin to disturb their peace. Bruce raises an eyebrow and asks, “Is the cabin on fire?” I dutifully add a word – a fire crackling in the living room stove. Happy now? He nods. And on it goes.
Can a hand held tightly against a heart, shake? Looking at nothing but prairie – sounds sort of negative, doesn’t it? If he doesn’t know when the moment of confrontation is coming, how can he say it will be soon? It surely wouldn’t take them half an hour a day to bring wood down for the bakery oven, would it? If she knows about photography, wouldn’t she already have the answer to that question? Shouldn’t you add something about rhubarb when you describe the look of the garden in spring? Your time frames don’t work on second growth lumber – better move it back to being logged in the late forties, right after the war. It’s a pipeline not just a pipe. What about adding fence panels to the sawmill inventory?
Well, you get the idea. The mind boggles at what will come up as we wade through the remaining forty chapters.
Now, lest you imagine that Bruce’s questioning tone and raised eyebrows send my fingers immediately skittering over the computer keys to make changes – think again. I don’t always go peacefully. But every time I find myself explaining or justifying, I make myself stop and reconsider.
To write fiction is to make a bargain. The reader agrees to suspend his or her reality for a period of time in order to enter into a story. The author agrees to do nothing that will distract the reader from that task. A nagging doubt about whether a tightly held hand can shake does make a difference. It’s like a hangnail snagging on a piece of fabric – an irritation – and irritating readers is never a good idea.
All my pursuits of the last couple of days have been carried out with radio news coverage of Nelson Mandela’s death in the background of my words and thoughts. It seems fitting to end this post with a Mandela quote that speaks to the incredible power of words.
“It is never my custom to use words lightly. If twenty-seven years in prison have done anything for us, it was to use the silence of solitude to make us understand how precious words are and how real speech is in its impact on the way people live and die.” (Nelson Mandela – South Africa, July 2000)
disappearinginplainsight 
it is quite pretty, strange for sure
Something about those brightly-coloured berries against the stark branches – beautiful indeed.
how wonderful to create understanding
and harmony
whilst fires crackle uncontrollably
and purples berries radiate,
feeling finally heard,
“i’m beautiful”
Now I am honoured more than I can say when smilecalm writes a special poem about my post 🙂 Thank you so much. May we all be beautiful.
Is Bruce an engineer as well as a photographer? His observations are reminiscent of the kind my husband makes!
He’s a carpenter but I’m thinking – similar ways of thinking.
Oh, he is a stickler, isn’t he? Now if he’s a carpenter he’s looking not so much for the hangnail that might irritate the reader as the splinter. And thank goodness for the likes of him! My husband was my loyal first reader and he pounced on misspellings, debated my UK versus US word choices, questioned plot holes (as big as potholes!) and generally was a right pain in the arse (Yes, I mean arse not ass) I like you did not go quietly. But boy did I appreciate all his wisdom! Hurrah for carpenters!
I’m with you on the pain in the arse part as well as the appreciation. Maybe we couldn’t go through this process unless we knew we could have a few no holds barred battles along the way. He insisting on a change to something I’m quite convinced no one else on the entire planet gives a flying patootie about 🙂 But – better to err on the side of caution. Thanks for stopping by and refining my analogy – splinter does ring more true to working with a carpenter.
That’s funny because I was thinking my husband (former carpenter turned engineer) helps me with similar edits. I guess it’s good to have them around:) for us metaphorical types.
We need to start some sort of club – or maybe support group 🙂 The attention to detail that these guys bring to an edit is both welcome and infuriating all at the same time. Talk about working a dichotomy.
So very true!
The importance of getting a manuscript in front of another reader, and then some, can’t be understated. We never know how our stories, or even our phrasing, is going to be interpreted by someone else. Sounds like Bruce is the perfect critic.
The clarity issue is a big one – what seems so clear to me is certainly not always the case. But what a balancing act between brevity and clarity. I’m finding, on this final polish, that words have to go back in where they were previously cut. Nothing can replace going over and over the manuscript (and not just once or twice.)
Okay, this is scary. My husband is an engineer as well and he too is very much like Bruce in his attention to detail and editing of my manuscripts. Although it’s always annoying at first, when I think about what he says it’s always right on. 😀
Okay – now I really am going to want to start up a club. What is it about engineer-minded men and writing partners or vice versa? Must be a winning combination.
I love his quote – a man filled with meaning. Your husband sounds a little like my dad who just looked over my manuscript and spotted similar sorts of errors. Those other sets of eyes are essential in making sure our writing is polished and making sense. I think the berry is named correctly, for their colour is incredible – it’s the tree that’s a little bland!
Thanks for stopping by, Gemma. This post was a bit of a mix – with a nod to Mandela, polishing a manuscript and the beauty berry photo. Men seem to tune into specific detail when they read – exactly what we want in a pre-publication reader.
Words can be incredibly precious. They can bring together a group of men for a common cause or they can tear down boundaries between them. It’s a way to share ourselves with the world. How amazing it is that we can write about a cabin with a fire and we can all understand what it means. We can write about our greatest joys in the world and bring a smile to someones face or we can write about a tragedy we experienced and have others feel and experience things they couldn’t imagine by themselves.
Nelson Mandela was certainty right on that topic though. It’s such a shame they he had to leave the world. Recently I started reading a biography about him. Very interesting man!
Very good post as well. I hope you’re having a wonderful week!
Thanks for the well wishes and for the thoughtful comment. The power of words to evoke feelings in the reader is the thing that makes this writer’s gig so satisfying and terrifying all at the same time. No matter how you cut it – words matter.
Isn’t that the truth!? Have a wonderful night! 🙂