As I continue to work on deep edits for The Pilgrimage of Promise, I thought it might be beneficial for some of you newbie writers to see the difference between the rough draft copy and a copy that has undergone deep edits. While this later rendition is improved, it is still not final. I will go through one more round of edits on the manuscript, as well as have beta readers/editors offer their suggestions.
Rough Draft Excerpt:
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Mama Beth peered down at the only man she’d ever loved and lifted a hand to her aching chest. Garbed in a hospital gown, Bo somehow seemed small and vulnerable amidst the towering machines surrounding him. Though his eyes were closed in sleep, the wrinkle between his now white brows revealed suffering. She allowed her gaze to linger on every feature of the face she’d memorized years ago, growing fear returning to gnaw at the last fringes of her unraveling hope.
She moved to the window of the Baylor Medical Center hospital room and watched the people scurrying below, hurrying to the warmth of skyscrapers. Another icy cold and dark day. Another day in a month of days confined to this darkened room. Dani and Steve had been up over the weekend, but with Dani expecting and running the day care in her absence, and Steve tending to the business of Miller’s Creek, they’d left Dallas yesterday to return home. Trish and Andy and the kids would be up next weekend, but a hospital wasn’t a good place for kids who needed to run and make noise and expend energy.
With a heavy sigh she turned to face Bo again, her heart immediately moving to its familiar position in her throat. Though she’d been through many storms in her sixty plus years of living, none of them had shaken her to the core of her faith like this one. She had to somehow find a way to lean on God’s promises to help her through this valley of the shadow of death.
Lord, bring him through this. Heal him. Please don’t take him away from me now. You’ve already taken Cecille, and I just don’t think I can handle any more deaths in the family. Through tear-filled eyes she once more glimpsed the pain etched on Bo’s face as the machine at the head of the bed continued its infernal beeping. But I don’t want him to suffer, so if healing him is not part of Your plan… She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears down her face, unable to finish the prayer.
“You okay, hon?”
His whispered words shook her from self-pity, and she quickly swiped her face and stepped toward him, relieved to see him awake. “Of course. Just being a silly goose and giving into a little bit of a pity party.” She leaned across the bed rail and cupped his face with her palm. “Are you feeling okay? Any pain?”
He closed his eyes and gave his head a little shake. “Not too bad.”
“You’d best not be feeding me a lie, you know.”
A gentle laugh eased out of him, forcing his taut lips into a smile, the familiar twinkle returning to his dark eyes. “Now would I do that?” He searched her face and lifted one hand. “Never mind. Don’t answer.” He grew quiet momentarily, and an expression came across his face that unnerved her. “Bethie, I know we promised when we got married to not bring up the past, but I think it’s time.”
No! Every fiber of her being screamed the word. That meant he was giving up. “Don’t you dare give up on me, Bo Miller.”
Deep-Edited Excerpt: (numbers added for analysis purposes)
Mona Beth(1) lifted a hand to her aching chest(2) and peered down at the only man she’d ever loved. Garbed in a light blue(3) hospital gown, her gentle giant(4) somehow seemed small and vulnerable amidst the towering machines which surrounded his bed. Though his eyes were closed in sleep, the wrinkle between his now-white brows revealed pain and suffering. She allowed her gaze to linger on every nuance of the face she’d memorized years ago, growing fear returning to gnaw at the last fringes of her unraveling hope.
Her heart leaped to its familiar position in her throat(5). She simply had to somehow find the strength to make it through this valley, not for herself, but for Bo. He wouldn’t recover well or quickly if he spent all his time concerned about her. And the sooner he got better, the sooner they could go home to Miller’s Creek where they belonged. But only if they got a good report(6).
A nurse entered the room and sent a polite, close-lipped smile as she strode noiselessly toward the hospital bed. “How are you, Mrs. Miller?”(7) She half-whispered the question as she checked the data on one of the contraptions Bo had nicknamed the green-eyed monsters for their tendency to glare an eerie green into the room at night while they tried to sleep(8).
“I’m fine.” Same old lie for the same old question(9).
After she finished her routine duties, the nurse turned to face her. “You’re welcome to go to the cafeteria for breakfast, but you should know that Dr. Kumar will most likely be here soon. He usually makes his rounds about now. And please let us know if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” News of Dr. Kumar’s probable visit whisked away any appetite she might have had, not that she had much of one considering the tasteless cardboard the hospital cafeteria characterized as food(10).
The young woman departed as quietly as she came. Now the walls of the hospital room, completely devoid of any of the homey comfort to which she was accustomed, seemed to close in on her once more. A yearning sigh escaped. The place held not even one ounce of the charm of the home they shared in Miller’s Creek, and there was only so much more she could take of this antiseptic-smelling and sterile place(11).
Mona Beth meandered to the plate-glass window of the Baylor Medical Center hospital room. People scurried below, hurrying to the warmth of nearby skyscrapers, living their normal everyday lives(12). But for her it was just another icy-cold and dark day. Another day in a month of days confined to this darkened room. Another day of endless waiting(13).
She rubbed at the headache building above her eyes(14). Dani and Steve had come to visit over the weekend, but with Dani expecting a baby and running the day care, and Steve tending to the business of Miller’s Creek and the ranch, they’d had to leave Dallas yesterday to return home.
Trish and Andy and the kids would be up next weekend, but a hospital wasn’t a good place for kids who needed to run and make noise and expend energy—kids who needed to play rather than watch their beloved Papaw grow weaker(15).
Lord, bring him through this. Heal him. Please don’t take him away from me now. You’ve already taken Cecille, and I just don’t think I can handle any more deaths in the family. Through tear-filled eyes she once more glimpsed the pain etched on Bo’s face as one of the green-eyed monster machines at the head of the bed continued its infernal beeping(16). Lord, I don’t want him to suffer, so if healing him is not part of Your plan… She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears down her face, unable to finish the prayer.
“You okay, hon?”
Bo’s(17) whispered words shook her from self-pity, and she quickly swiped her face and stepped toward him, relieved to see him awake. “Of course. Just being a silly goose and giving into a little bit of a pity party.” She leaned across the bed rail and cupped his stubbled cheek(18) with her palm. “Are you feeling okay? Any pain?”
He closed his eyes and gave his head a little shake. “Not too bad.”
“You’d best not be feeding me a line, you know.”
A gentle laugh eased out of him, forcing his previously taut lips into a smile, a hint of the familiar twinkle returning to his dark eyes. “Now would I do that?” He searched her face. His expression sobered, and he lifted a hand. “Never mind. Don’t answer.” He grew quiet momentarily, and an unnerving frown landed on his forehead(19). “Bethie, I know we promised when we got married not to bring up the past, but I think it’s time.”
No! Every fiber of her being screamed the word in unison. That meant he was giving up. She leaned back to give him a hard stare(20). “Don’t you dare give up, Bo Miller. I just won’t have it. You hear me?”(21)
Overview of Changes:
For the sake of time and space, I won't discuss all the changes made, but here are some of the major differences between the rough draft copy and the excerpt that has undergone deep edits. (Numbers correspond with small numbers in the deep-edited version.)
I decided the female lead would think of herself as Mona Beth since she's lived with that name longer. The citizens of Miller's Creek are the ones who call her Mama Beth.
I had the order reversed here. She would feel her aching chest before she peered down. Also I think the sentence has more impact for the reader by ending with "the only man she ever loved."
More detail is a good thing, because it helps the reader visualize the scene and pulls them deeper into the story.
By calling him "her gentle giant" rather than "Bo," we get deeper into Mona Beth's point-of-view. Again this pulls the reader deeper into the story. It also helps characterize Bo from Mona Beth's perspective. We better understand how she feels about him and what kind of person he is.
I felt the passage warranted more and stronger emotion. One way for the reader to "feel" that emotion is to describe it using a common visceral response, in this case a lump of emotion in her throat.
As I checked the original draft for the point-of-view character's goal and motivation, I realized that it hadn't come through for the reader. To fix the problem, I just got in Mona Beth's head and had her voice what she wanted to accomplish and why.
In the rough draft the writing took too long to get to dialogue. I can only speak for myself, but when I see paragraph after paragraph of no dialogue, my eyes immediately glaze over and begin to skim. I added this dialogue with a nurse for the purpose of breaking up large chunks of Mona Beth's thoughts. It also served the purpose of making the hospital scene more realistic.
Adding this sentence further characterizes Mona Beth by using words specific to her character, such as "contraptions." It also adds a bit of humor to an otherwise very serious scene. It's always a good thing to break up especially tense or sad passages with a little levity.
Hints at Mona Beth's state of mind.
More humor and a connecting point with the reader. We've all probably had the pleasure of eating hospital cafeteria food at some point in our lives. If not, let me warn you in advance... ;)
Inserted this to further set the scene. Notice that I appeal to the sense of smell. Makes my nose burn just thinking about it.
One of the best ways to show the reader how a character is feeling is to use comparison and contrast. Here Mona Beth is comparing herself to the people who are able to carry on with their normal everyday lives while she's cooped up in a hospital room.
I had already sort of used the rhetorical device of anaphora here with the repetition of the word "another," but I felt like it needed another "another" to cement it. =)
Here I found a big blob of nothing but Mona Beth's thoughts. While those thoughts are necessary to get the reader inside the main character's head, too much is tiring. I broke it up with an action that also revealed her physical state.
More emotional appeal added here. And again, most of us have been in similar situations, so we can relate to Mona Beth's angst.
No change here, but this is another good example of the language Mona Beth frequently uses.
Oops! The reader might like to know who's speaking!
More sensory detail. This helps the reader "feel" what she feels.
This was one of those places where I felt the original wording was weak and confusing. Still not completely satisfied, but I think it's better than it was. (NOTE: You won't always be completely satisfied with everything in your stories. Lesson: Change what you can and move on. Don't get caught up in trying to make everything perfect or you'll never get finished!)
After reading through the first version, I felt like Mona Beth needed to act on her thoughts, so I added this sentence.
I read through every line of dialogue out loud. While Mona Beth is not one to mince words, she's also gonna have her say. I think the extra lines of dialogue not only drive the point home, but characterize her very well.
Hope this helps you see what happens to the rough draft during the deep editing process. And for all you non-writers, I hope it helps you see that writing stories isn't near as easy as it might seem! =)
Happy writing!
