Minutiae

We’re getting down to the bitter end with our edits on the third book in the trilogy. We’ve done all the big things like deleting scenes and resequencing chapters. Characters that only had one or two point-of-view scenes now find themselves with none, relegated to the background like a mere extra in a movie. Descriptions have been expanded, motivations clarified, plot points strengthened, dialog perfected. The ending has tripled in size (Now with moar happenings!).

What is left?! I hear you cry.

Weasel words, that’s what’s left.

What are weasel words? You cry yet again.

Weasel words are meaningless little words that clutter up your prose. Every author has certain crutch words that pop up, seemingly while you’re not looking, like dandelions. In our case these crutches are mainly qualifying words. Given free rein, our sentences would all look like this:

Apparently he actually perhaps might have just wanted to.

And so we use the Find function of our word processor to search out these evil little weasels and banish them.* We talk about every single one. Yes, it’s tedious, but when we’re done the prose is much snappier. It sparkles like morning dew.

What does any of this have to do with collaboration?! I hear you cry one final time.

Well, until you have a half-hour-long argument over whether or not a particular sentence needs “had” to truly connote when in time and space the action occurred in relation to the currently happening story actions, you can’t truly call yourself a co-author.

* This technique also works well for ferreting out passive voice. Color all instances of “was” red, and, when you’re done crying, your novel will thank you.