Tag Archives: editing

The Audio/Print Link

Imagine these scenarios:

  • Reading your manuscript to a critique group
  • An author reading to an audience
  • Recording an Audio Book of your manuscript

All the listeners are experiencing your words differently than in print. You’re saying “duh!” but I don’t mean auditory vs visual… well, yes, I do, but I really mean the brain centers of these senses.

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Use your voice to catch what your fingers miss!

Different sites in your brain process information from your senses. Visual/reading is completely different than hearing. Listeners are hearing a completely different story than those reading it. Whether it is a richer experience or not depends on their learning style.

For the life of me, I can’t process an audio book. I listened to Sun Dog, by Stephen King, and did not find it scary or interesting. When I read the story, it gave me the creeps. I spoke to a friend who was interesting in my last book and she asked if I had an audio book of it (the answer is, “Yes, in about a month.”)  She said she doesn’t get anything from reading but can listen and absorb it all. This boggles my mind.

So, what does this mean for each of these scenarios?

Reading your manuscript to a critique group

Don’t put too much into the critique of your written story UNLESS the listener has structural input. Even then, ask your critics what their learning style is. It might be better to give advance copies for analysis. On the other hand, it might be informative to it’s fit for an audio book AND reading it out loud will help you. More on that in a moment, but Beta READERS are better for critique.

An author reading to an audience

While this might hook some readers, it might turn off others who would otherwise love the print version of your book.

A couple words of advice for author reading: It’s not an audio book. Be animated, act out your characters, growl, bark, moan, whatever’s appropriate to your story. An author reading is more akin to a radio show than an audio book. Audio books are long form; spikes and dips in volume that work at an author reading are annoying in an audio book. And do not get upset if some listeners don’t like your story. They might if they read it. And let them know that! At the end of your reading, say, “if this story grabbed you, thank you! And buy the book. If the story DIDN’T grab you, you may have a different experience reading it for yourself, so buy the book!”

Recording and Audio Book of your manuscript

Hoo-boy! This is VALUABLE. You will catch:

  • Typos
  • Poorly written sentences (if they’re hard to read out loud, they’re hard to read period)
  • You’ll gain new eyes on your book.

The reason why is you are literally encountering your book anew. You can expect to lose track of your story as you read it out loud. That portion of your brain has never housed the story before (even talking about your story is done in a different place in your brain than reading it).

Even if you don’t record your book for audio, read it out loud for the sake of editing. I’ll never not do that again. Those typos you don’t see when you’re reading silently—because you know what’s supposed to be there—stand out like a beacon in the fresh part of your brain.

Having said that, be wary while reading aloud. You read aloud from a different place in your brain than you write from (or read silently from); as you hear yourself read, it is a fresh place of grey matter. The novelty of hearing/reading your beloved story out loud is that it will feel foreign – don’t think that means it’s bad! Linkages in centers of the brain opposite your learning style don’t occur the way they do in your learning style (it’s admittedly a big assumption that reading/visual is your learning style, but for most writers, I expect it is). Don’t trust listening to it to help you figure out your structure (unless you’re returning to it years after reading it). An outline is still your best bet for structure difficulty.

To sum up:

  • Get critique from the same media you output to. Out loud for audio books; in print for written books.
  • Author readings are more about acting than reciting. Don’t trust audience reaction.
  • Record audio books as part of the final edit process (or read it out loud). Structure changes should be in earlier edits. Here, you’re finding typos and difficult sentences.

The brain is an unusual space. Use it to your advantage.

Outline to Structure Greatness

Story structure is as old as Aristophanes. It maps to expectations in the reader’s brain. The structure map must correspond to your story scenes. If it doesn’t (and don’t worry, there are millions of ways for it to do so), it will be boring, confusing, and incomplete.

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This is NOT the kind of outline we’re talking about.

The map is straight forward:

World-building – Where are we?

Status Quo – What’s normal life for the hero? Is it comfortable, tolerable, wonderful?

The Problem – Something challenges normal.

The Inciting Incident – Something makes normal no longer possible and the problem MUST be solved.

Initial Commitment – The main character commits tentatively.

Commitment Tested – That commitment is tested.

Point of No Return – ONLY the main character can solve the problem, fully committed.

Challenge of Character-Plan-Relationships-Self – Put the main character through every ringer possible

Wins and Losses – Sometimes he wins, sometimes he loses; always character is challenged.

Raising the Stakes/Rising Tension – The deeper in, the more dangerous it gets, often in a giant leap. This isn’t restricted to action plots; emotional risk is equally compelling.

Gaining Power – Through all trials and travails, your main character is growing and getting equipped to take on the final challenge.

Reversal – Expectations are confounded, twisted, reversed.

Discovery – The solution presents itself, often only in the character’s mind, not in the words themselves.

Climax – This is it, the final solution played out, the opposition defeated.

New Normal – What’s life look like now? This is the completion of the character arc.

A word about outlines. You can certainly begin with an outline, but expect it to change. If you are an outliner, update your outline as you go. If you’re not, make one after the first draft. Each scene should slot into one of the above structure points. While it’s tempting to say they should always fall in this order, and more or less do in traditional stories, you can climb out of the box, or, like Tarantino, set the box on fire and stomp it out. Nonetheless, each of the elements above are in his stories, just taken out of order.

You might see structures detailed with different words, or some of them combined, but they are all essentially the same.

What happens if a scene doesn’t fall neatly into one of the elements? First, ask yourself if you’re sure it doesn’t fit. If it truly doesn’t fit, ask yourself, “is it necessary?” Can you cut it? Have you by some miracle discovered a new structure element?

Your cutting guide is simple: If I cut it, does the story improve? If I don’t, is it harmed? “Elementless” scenes may be funny, and you can get away with them if they don’t drag down the pace. Is there conflict? Every scene should have some form of conflict. If it doesn’t and it can be cut, cut it. It’s that simple. And that hard.

Editing Questions

You’ve hit the rewrite stage of your story; the first draft is done and now you must assess what you’ve got and figure out how to make it stronger.

Ask yourself these questions to prompt your rewrite.

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Red pens are for monsters…

Is it compelling?

 Evaluate your concept. Does it inspire the reader to not just wonder what happens, but does it compel the reader so they MUST FIND OUT what happens? Does your first act sing? Does the intersection of character, happenstance, and conflict force me to turn the page?

Is your entry point and POV spot on?

Who tells the story? Is it 1st person? Why? Is it 3rd person? Why? 

Have you begun the story early enough, so the reader has just enough information, and late enough that it doesn’t bog down? Why did you choose this spot to begin? Is detail parsed out as the reader needs it or is it in a big clump?

Have you crippled your characters? In storytelling, you should!

Everyone has weaknesses; everyone needs to grow and change. Have you chosen your weaknesses to compliment with other characters or conflict with them? Both are necessary; some characters will have strengths to compensate other’s weaknesses. Others should clash. Examine your main characters for compatibility and conflict.

Everyone should grow, decline or e change from beginning to end (everyone should have their own arc, some large, some small depending on the size of the role).

Is it inevitable and unavoidable?

Does the main character have to do what he/she does? If not, why doesn’t he/she quit? If characters aren’t compelled, they would quit when the going gets tough. The only reason they won’t quit is because they can’t. Are your characters isolated in some manner so they can’t ask for help? If not, why don’t they? Boundaries can be physical, mental, emotional, or relational.

Is your antagonist strong enough?

Antagonists push the protagonist to action. They up the stakes, adding suspense and tension. A weak antagonist can’t make the protagonist active.

Do your villains have a reason?

While villains don’t have to be evil, they do have to be motivated or we won’t believe them. Make it something the reader can understand so complexity increases (in Black Panther, the villain wasn’t wrong; his motives were good; his tactics were wrong).

Have you burned the Status Quo?

People must change; roles must change; THINGS must change or what’s the point of the story?

Is everyone wearing boxing gloves?

Conflict is essential to story; every scene comes alive when there is conflict. Make your people clash! We are also worlds within ourselves, so internal conflict can be compelling.

Is your prose crunchy?

Avoid vanilla language. Without overwriting, make your voice and word choices unique. It shouldn’t pull your reader out of the story, but it shouldn’t lull them to sleep, either.

Does the ending make sense?

While your ending should be inevitable and logical, it should also be surprising or satisfying. Does the ending fulfill the “question” at the beginning?

These are important rewrite questions. Use them to guide your review. You might even go so far as to use symbols, highlights, or font color to identify the heavy hitters of conflict, change, and language use. We should see those in every scene at some layer or another. If there is no conflict or change, what is the scene doing there?