Sample Editing
The following edit samples for
MEMOIRS show before and after.
First edits. First books. On paper.
The original work is double-spaced.
- Maggie Holeman - heavy/content edit on paper
- Numerous examples of typical comprehensive line edit on paper
- Each trimmed/tightened the average of about 25%
BEFORE
Maggie Holeman
Woman in the Locker Room
PROLOGUE
Sergeant Wicker reiterated what he felt, “Maggie, don’t come in here, you really don’t need to see this.” I moved him aside as he blocked my entrance to the fire station stall. This was something I needed to do. The sight of the five opened body bags lying on the floor seared a gruesome image into my memory. A lifetime of shelved pictures tucked into the back of my mind tried to suppress what I was seeing. Still I remember them and the smell of death. These were once men, walking; talking; living. Now they lay in body bags, mutilated. Some missing half of their heads; their brains exposed; eyeballs dangling from what was once their sockets; blood-soaked clothing ripped and shredded as though a monster grabbed, then tossed them into the air like string puppets. Now they were heavy under their lifeless mass - their substance gone. There was something about the stark reality of death staring you in the face. Sobering. Sad. Riveting, and yet repulsive at the same time. I had never seen anything like this before. And when I walked out, I hoped I would never see anything like it again.
James Cosner
Faith Under Fire
We were hunting trouble. It was mid-afternoon of another hot humid day. It was one of those days when breathing hurt. Without a breeze, the sticky heat penetrated my skin and clothes. The sixty-pound rucksack felt like twice that in the damp heat. From the helmets down, we were dressed in Army green T-shirts and trousers that were now sweaty and covered with dust; some wore flack jackets; others chose not to. All the soldiers were heavy with weapons and ammunition.
Peter Earle Dashiell
An American Zero
The radio and TV stations interrupted their regularly scheduled programs to announce that bombs were exploding, and a shooting spree was taking place at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado. Twenty-five people were believed dead and dozens wounded. The local S.W.A.T. teams and police had surrounded the school. Early reports were coming through that the killers were members of an outcast group called the “Trench Coat Mafia.”
Tracy Ringsdorf
Gap in Jehovah’s Witness Religion
“You’ve left us no choice. You are now disfellow-shipped which we will announce tomorrow night.” I sat in stoic silence on a cold, metal chair taking in those words on my 22nd birthday. My entire life as I knew it changed in that moment by just two small sentences. I left the meeting in a daze. Afterwards, I sat in Kentucky Fried Chicken trying to swallow some cheap chicken thinking, “Huh, I’m no longer a Jehovah’s Witness.” The coldness inside my bones mirrored the cold, snowy weather outside. Then there was complete emptiness.
How did I get to that point? I was raised the third of ....
Marylou Cate
Unsteadily I clung to the counter while the evidence whirled around in my head and my knees threatened to buckle beneath me. There are no words to describe how it felt to discover that the man I love and have been loyal to for my whole adult life has betrayed me. I wanted the floor to open so I could sink out of sight right then and there. All of the oxygen in my body was pummeled out and I gasped for life even as I fervently wished I didn’t have to live. Slowly, my legs gave out and I sank to the floor silent as death. I felt obliterated. I was there but not there. (new writer)
AFTER
Heavy-Content Edit
on paper, once-through
“Maggie, don’t come in here,” Sergeant Wicker [verb]. “You really don’t need to see this.”
I moved him aside as he blocked my entrance to the fire-station stall. The five, opened body bags on the floor seared a gruesome image into my mind. I tried to suppress what I was seeing … and the smell of death.
These were once men: walking, talking, living. Now they lay mutilated. Some missing half their heads, their brains exposed, their eyeballs dangling, their blood-soaked clothing ripped and shredded. Their lifeless mass was heavy. Their substance was gone. The stark reality of death stared me in the face. Sobering, sad, riveting--and repulsive.
I had never seen anything like this before. When I walked out, I hoped never to see anything like this again.
(heavy/content edit on paper, with suggested reorganization, trimmed about 25%, 54 hours)
FOLLOWING ARE TYPICAL
Comprehensive Line Edits
on paper, once-through
We were hunting trouble. It was mid-afternoon on another hot humid day, one of those days when breathing hurt. Without a breeze, the sticky heat penetrated my skin and clothes. The sixty-pound rucksack felt like twice that in this damp heat. From our helmets down, our Army green T-shirts and trousers were sweaty and covered with dust; some of us wore flack jackets, others chose not to. All the soldiers were heavy with weapons and ammunition.
TV and radio stations interrupted their regularly scheduled programs to announce that bombs were exploding and a shooting spree was taking place at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado. Twenty-five people were believed dead and dozens wounded. The local S.W.A.T. teams and police had surrounded the school. Early reports were coming through that the killers were members of an outcast group called the “Trench Coat Mafia.”
“You’ve left us no choice. You are now disfellowshipped, which we will announce tomorrow night.”
I sat in stoic silence on the metal folding chair, taking in these words on my twenty-second birthday. These two sentences changed my entire life. I left in a daze. Huh? I’m no longer a Jehovah’s Witness? The coldness in my bones mirrored the cold, snowy weather outside. Afterwards, trying to swallow Kentucky Fried Chicken, feeling completely empty, I gawked. How had I gotten to this point?
Once-through tighten, trim, some editing
Unsteadily, I clung to the counter. The damning evidence whirled around in my head. My knees buckled beneath me. The man I had loved my whole adult life had betrayed me. I wanted the floor to open and swallow me. I gasped for air. Slowly, I sank to the floor, obliterated. I was not there.
Replies by next business day
Copyright 2010 The Writing Doctor: Ghostwriters. All Rights Reserved.
Award-winning Editor and Author
Professional tips on the process of writing and editing: nonfiction, business, novels, screenplays, spiritual. Business and personal experiences as an editor, ghostwriter, and author.
Learned life tools. Personal musings on events of the day, and how coping, or not.
