How not to lose $3k as a new author--self editing tips

One of the most humbling adventures a writer can face is journeying back in time to their previous works. I started writing stories at the young age of twelve – fan fiction mainly about my favorite shows. I completed my first novel at 16. This is the one I’m reviewing now–13 years later. 

Thank goodness, I have learned so much more about writing since then. Unfortunately, I did not learn these things before I lost 3k by vanity publishing a book before it was ready. 

There’s a whole story that goes with the actual vanity press adventure. You can link to it HERE. But here is step one–putting your best foot forward with a manuscript worth reading. 


My first novel
​What I’m going to show you in this article is the prologue of my first novel. I completed it at age 16, reviewed and tried to publish it at age 22. Using the concepts discussed below, hopefully you will be able to give your own manuscripts (MS’s) a good spit shine before sending it out to prospective pub houses and agents.

Prologue
    He ran. Only one thought filled his mind. “Escape.” A dog howled in the distance. They had found his trail. Another howl, closer this time. How were they gaining ground so fast? 
 He stole a glance over his shoulder and tripped over a root. His hands floundered against the slick leaves as he tumbled toward the cliff.  He started rolling uncontrollably down the slippery slope. The wet leaves gave him no traction and he fell hopelessly toward the ravine. His hands reached out to grab something-- anything. He found a root and held it with all of his might, but as he began to pull himself up, it snapped. He plummeted toward the river, too terrified to scream. 
    A dog sniffed the place where he had fallen. Its master pulled an arrow out of his quiver and notched it, aiming at whatever might surface. He waited silently until he was satisfied that the boy would not come up, then turned and walked away. The dog followed without hesitation. 

Okay, now let’s break this down a bit with some good old fashion critique tips. 


    He ran. 

Sentence One is very vague. There’s not much of a picture shown here.. Running where? Track? Through the mall? The forest? Also, weak point of view (POV)–camera angle?     You have very little time to hook your reader into your story. I’d recommend something more original and intriguing than two words that could be found in Dick and Jane. 

Don’t be afraid to add descriptive language. Keep in mind what reading is: hallucinating vividly. Give your audience something to hallucinate! 

A better POV would be to show his heart pounding (cliche) or his side aching. Tears? Sweat? Branches tearing at his pants? Is he wearing pants? 

Only one thought filled his mind. “Escape.” 

Cliche

 A dog howled in the distance. They had found his trail. Another howl, closer this time. How were they gaining ground so fast?

IMO – Not bad POV. Some people don’t like questions being asked. Personally, I think they’re fine. 

 He stole a glance over his shoulder and tripped over a root. His hands floundered against the slick leaves as he tumbled toward the cliff. He started rolling uncontrollably down the slippery slope. The wet leaves gave him no traction and he fell hopelessly toward the ravine. His hands reached out to grab something-- anything. He found a root and held it with all of his might, but as he began to pull himself up, it snapped. He plummeted toward the river, too terrified to scream. 

He stole, he started rolling, The wet leaves, His hands reached, He found, He plummeted. These are all similar sentence structures. In certain situations, this can be fine, but after a while, the feel of the piece becomes redundant. One plus–great active verbs. 
I underlined “started” here–try to avoid started unless you have to. Which sounds stronger? He started rolling uncontrollably down the slippery slop or He rolled uncontrollably…    Nothing interrupted the ‘start’--he full on tumbled, so write it like that. 

    A dog sniffed the place where he had fallen. Its master pulled an arrow out of his quiver and notched it, aiming at whatever might surface. He waited silently until he was satisfied that the boy would not come up, then turned and walked away. The dog followed without hesitation. 

One good thing here–the use of shorter sentences within an action scene. The pacing never slows down. That being said, very cliche opening–someone running through the woods being chased by an unknown being. Very ominous, very overused. 

So, how can this be improved? 

I have not changed the beginning. If I were looking to re-market this book, I would have to do something less cliche than a chase scene, but I have re-written it using some of the concepts mentioned above. 

As a note– some reason, I thought it would be clever to leave the character unnamed in this scene for mystery, but in the very next chapter, it’s pretty clear who it was tumbling. And it’s not much of a pay off. By not mentioning his name, however, I feel that it makes it harder for the reader to connect with the character, to see him as a real person. So, I’ve added his name and a bit more context. 

​

How much blood had they taken? Bryan clutched the bandage about the bend of his arm with his pale fingers. Behind him, the cabin stood no more than one hundred yards away, but his run from it had left him breathless. It was more than the altitude that caused his heart to race, more than the fear of those not far behind him–but they did not help either. 
    At the thought of the Watchers, Bryan forced himself onward. Branches and thorns clung to his pants and shirt, tearing the already fragile material to ribbons. He shoved himself from tree to tree, using their strength to keep himself upright. Something rose over the sound of crunching leaves and tearing fabric. At first, he thought it was the blood rushing through his ears, but it grew ever louder. 
    Bryan burst through the underbrush and out of the treeline–only to nearly tumble down the cliff. At the basin of the ravine roared a river, churning, tumbling over rocks. His vision blurred even more. 
    A dog howled behind him. They were coming. 
    Bryan raced along the edge of the cliffside, grabbing from branch to branch to keep himself going. Suddenly, the ground beneath his foot gave way, and his foot slipped into nothingness. His hands scrambled for something, anything, to stop his descent. By some miracle, his fingers found a branch and he grabbed onto it with all of his might. 
    But hold on was all he could do. He had no strength to pull himself up, and his feet found no purchase. He dangled over the raging river. 
    Feet appeared on the edge of the cliff–black boots made of deerskin. Shoes of silence. A hooded figure knelt in the grass and reached out for Bryan with gloved hands, but before they could touch him–  
    Bryan let go. 

Which is better? I’ll let you decide ;)