Reminder: All books in the "Opening Salvos" series of posts are ones that I own. If I own a book, that generally means I like it.
The second entry concerns Hugo-nominated science fiction novel, Old Man's War by John Scalzi (check out his blog here).
(ducking to avoid any missiles hurled at my head)
Mr. Scalzi has written many published books, and my books are still only in manuscript form (or in progress via serial), but my examination of opening pages of published literature is an exercise in improving craft. If it helps another writer, great. If it irritates, well, tough!
The book opens thus:
I did two things on my seventy-fifth birthday. I visited my wife's grave. Then I joined the army.
Visiting Kathy's grave was the less dramatic of the two. She's buried in Harris Creek Cemetery, not more than a mile down the road from where I live and where we raised our family. Getting her into the cemetery was more difficult than perhaps it should have been; neither of us expected needing the burial, so neither of us made the arrangements. It's somewhat mortifying, to use a rather apt word, to have to argue with a cemetery manager about your wife not having made a reservation to be buried. Eventually my son, Charlie, who happens to be mayor, cracked a few heads and got the plot. Being the father of the mayor has its advantages.
So, the grave. Simple and unremarkable, with one of those small markers instead of a big headstone. As a contrast, Kathy lies next to Sandra Cain, whose rather oversized headstone is polished black granite, with Sandy's high school photo and some maudlin quote from Keats about the death of youth and beauty sandblasted into the front. That's Sandy all over. It would have amused Kathy to know Sandra was parked next to her with her big dramatic headstone; all their lives Sandy nurtured an entertainingly passive-aggressive competition with her. Kathy would come to the local bake sale with a pie, Sandy would bring three and simmer, not so subtly, if Kathy's pie sold first. Kathy would attempt to solve the problem by preemptively buying one of Sandy's pies. It's hard to say whether this actually made things better or worse, from Sandy's point of view.
Great opening paragraph, but then the sentences tend toward awkwardness, and the writing suffers from Really-Rather-Much Syndrome, a common writing malady in which unnecessary words abound, words such as really, rather, much, somewhat, and their relatives.
I like details. I like humor, contrasts, and insights into characters, main or secondary. I also like to get to the point.
So, if I had been Master of the Red Pencil, this is what I might have suggested:
I did two things on my seventy-fifth birthday. I visited my wife's grave. Then I joined the army.279 published words - 194 suggested words = 85-word weight loss, and a trimmer, cleaner beginning to an interesting story that is less bloated than these paragraphs might imply, and is more in line with the personality of the main character.
Kathy's buried in Harris Creek Cemetery, not more than a mile down the road from where I live and where we raised our family. Neither of us expected needing the burial, so neither of us made the arrangements, but my son, Charlie, happens to be mayor. He cracked a few heads; I got the plot.
So, the grave. It has one of those small markers, but Kathy lies next to Sandra Cain, whose oversized headstone is polished black granite, with Sandy's high school photo and some maudlin quote from Keats about the death of youth and beauty sandblasted into the front. That's Sandy all over. It would have amused Kathy to know Sandra was parked next to her with that big dramatic monument. All their lives, Sandy nurtured an entertaining passive-aggressive competition with her. Kathy would come to the local bake sale with a pie; Sandy would bring three. If Kathy's pie sold first, she'd buy one of Sandy's. It's hard to say whether this actually made things better or worse, from Sandy's point of view.
Comments or contentions, anyone?
No comments:
Post a Comment