Substantive editing sample 34:
The dark pact

At the very opening of this fantasy novel, I suggested revisions to enhance emphasis and coherence, justifying the revisions with extended commentary. I also suggested ways to enliven dialogue (enabling a character’s words to “echo” in the reader’s mind). I cautioned the author against “elegant variation,” the stylistic fault of studiedly finding different ways to denote the same thing merely to avoid repetition.

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This sample is presented here with the two authors’ permission.

Original
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Dementhus felt the power of necromancy flowing from his outstretched hands as he moved toward the fresh corpse on the obsidian slab. “Semetnus Ra, Thumpus Ra, Lorith Nadar!” Dementhus spoke the black tongue in a fevered pitch as he laid his hands upon the body. His mind channeled the dark forces of un-life into the remains as he watched with fiendish eyes the thing convulse back into a crude form of existence, birthed in blood and offal. The creature, that in life had been his apprentice, struggled to rise from the black stone slab. Dementhus addressed his former student. “Do you know who I am?” The thing’s milky eyes moved toward the Necromancer’s voice. It took a step forward. Its tongue lolled inside its ruined mouth like that of a rabid dog’s. It spoke and the voice that emerged was that of a whisper. “My master.” The mage smiled at the abomination and said a prayer of thanks to the Dark God, Terminus. Dementhus wondered why it had taken this long to turn against his former colleagues. This is the true power of magic, not the illusions and cantrips allowed by the Wizard Council of the Western Kingdoms! Dementhus took a long dagger from his robes and cast another spell. The dagger glowed red hot. He plunged the burning blade into the undead thing’s ribcage. Flames engulfed the creature and it crumpled to the floor, lifeless again. His apprentice had served him well in both life and death. Dementhus did not regret what he had done. He was cleaning the scorched blood off the dagger when his heart jolted within his chest. The amulet he wore around his neck glowed a dark crimson, the same amulet he received when he converted to the worship of Terminus. Its activation meant Bafomeht, the Priest King of Lux, was summoning him. The Prophet was the only person said to have survived a journey through the perpetual storm that surrounded the doomed city of Antium, a feat those on the Wizard Council thought impossible. Dementhus knew it was true. Not only had Bafomeht survived, he returned with the ultimate prize - the words of Terminus directly from the Dark God’s lips.

Markup
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Dementhus felt the power of necromancy flowing from his outstretched hands as he moved toward the fresh corpse on the obsidian slab. As he moved toward the fresh corpse on the obsidian slab, Dementhus felt flowing from his outstretched hands the power of necromancy. [(1) There is nothing wrong with the original sentence grammatically or in terms of mechanical style. However, the suggested revision enhances its emphasis and coherence (two foremost qualities of Aristotelian rhetoric) by ending the sentence on the strongest, punchiest word, “necromancy,” rather than the rather prosaic, quotidian word “slab.” (A sentence’s—or paragraph’s or chapter’s or book’s—most emphatic place is generally at the end.) Emphasis ends the sentence on the strongest, most palpable word, and coherence sets the stage for the words following the sentence, an elaboration of necromancy, not an elaboration of slabs. In fact, it is not only the final word of the sentence, but the final several words: the “power of necromancy” that is “flowing from his outstretched hands” (whereas the original text buries, muffles, toward the beginning of the sentence that power, that flowing, and those hands evocatively outstretched). The principle of coherence entails putting at the beginning of a sentence ideas that you have already stated, referred to, or implied (or, as in this case, at the very beginning of a story, ideas that are common or ordinary, such as the three words “As he moved”)—ideas that you can safely assume your reader is familiar with and will readily recognize. Then coherence entails putting at the end of your sentence the newest, the most surprising, the most significant information—information you want to stress, perhaps the information that you will expand on in the next sentence. Give your readers a familiar context to help them move from the more familiar to the less familiar, from the known to the unknown. My suggested revision progresses (builds) from the familiar three words at the beginning, “As he moved,” to the startling “fresh corpse on the obsidian slab” and continues building to “flowing from his outstretched hands” to concluding with what the ensuing text in the next sentence will further develop: “the power of necromancy.” (Dementhus’s ensuing speech develops that necromancy.) Emphasis and coherence are each served well. (2) I got rid of the paragraph break here (keeping Dementhus’s speech tied to his action).] “Semetnus Ra, Thumpus Ra, Lorith Nadar!” Dementhus spoke the black tongue in a fevered pitch as he laid his hands upon the body. As he laid his hands upon the body, he uttered the black tongue in a fevered pitch: “Semetnus Ra, Thumpus Ra, Lorith Nadar!” [(1) This is the same principle as in the last comment. (2) “uttered” is a more precise and evocative word than “spoke” (3) By putting the uttered words at the end of the sentence, you enable those words to “echo“ in the reader’s mind. (4) I broke the paragraph here, to enhance that echo.] His mind channeled the dark forces of un-life into the remains as he watched remains, and he watched [first Dementhus “channeled”; then he “watched”—right?] with fiendish eyes the thing convulse back into a crude form of existence, birthed in blood and offal. [I got rid of the paragraph break here (this is still the agency of Dementhus, who will speak at the end of the paragraph).] The creature, that in life who in life [an animate being (even a “thing” newly endowed with “un-life”) warrants “who” rather than “that” (although “it” rather than “he” or “she” can be the creature’s pronoun)] had been his apprentice, struggled to rise from the black stone slab. Dementhus addressed his former student. student: “Do you know who I am?” The thing’s milky eyes moved toward the Necromancer’s voice. It took a step forward. Its tongue lolled inside its ruined mouth like that of a rabid dog’s. It spoke and spoke, and the voice that emerged was that of a whisper. whisper: “My master.” The mage wizard [“elegant variation” (using different words for the same thing) tends to confuse a reader; you call Dementhus a “wizard” most of the time, so let’s be consistent, although the capitalized title “Necromancer” is suitable for him] smiled at the abomination and said a prayer of thanks to the Dark God, Terminus. Dementhus wondered why it had taken this taken him this long to turn against his former colleagues. This is the true power of magic, not the illusions and cantrips allowed by the Wizard Council of the Western Kingdoms! Dementhus took a long dagger from his robes and cast another spell. The dagger glowed red hot. He plunged the burning blade into the undead thing’s ribcage. rib cage. Flames engulfed the creature and creature, and it crumpled to the floor, lifeless again. His apprentice had served him well in both life and death. Dementhus did not regret what he had done. He was cleaning the scorched blood off the dagger when his heart jolted within his chest. The amulet he wore around his neck glowed was glowing [the present progressive form of the verb is better here, to describe an explanation for why Dementhus’s heart had just jolted; “glowed” implies that the amulet glowed after the heart jolted, but “was glowing” implies that the amulet’s glowing was the cause of the heart jolting] a dark crimson, the same amulet crimson. It was the same amulet he received he had received [when the narrative present is described in the simple past tense (the customary “once upon a time” method), events that happened in the past of the narrative present are described in the past perfect tense] when he converted when he’d converted to the worship of Terminus. Its activation meant Bafomeht meant that Bafomeht, the Priest King priest king of Lux, was summoning him. The Prophet was the only person said to have survived a journey through the perpetual storm that surrounded the doomed city of Antium, a feat those on the Wizard Council thought Council had thought impossible. Dementhus knew it was true. Not only had Bafomeht survived, he returned he had returned with the ultimate prize - the words of Terminus directly prize: the Words of Terminus, directly from the Dark God’s lips. [you style it this way (“Words of Terminus” rather than “words of Terminus”) elsewhere in the manuscript; let’s be consistent.]

Result
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As he moved toward the fresh corpse on the obsidian slab, Dementhus felt flowing from his outstretched hands the power of necromancy. As he laid his hands upon the body, he uttered the black tongue in a fevered pitch: “Semetnus Ra, Thumpus Ra, Lorith Nadar!” His mind channeled the dark forces of un-life into the remains, and he watched with fiendish eyes the thing convulse back into a crude form of existence, birthed in blood and offal. The creature, who in life had been his apprentice, struggled to rise from the black stone slab. Dementhus addressed his former student: “Do you know who I am?” The thing’s milky eyes moved toward the Necromancer’s voice. It took a step forward. Its tongue lolled inside its ruined mouth like that of a rabid dog’s. It spoke, and the voice that emerged was that of a whisper: “My master.” The wizard smiled at the abomination and said a prayer of thanks to the Dark God, Terminus. Dementhus wondered why it had taken him this long to turn against his former colleagues. This is the true power of magic, not the illusions and cantrips allowed by the Wizard Council of the Western Kingdoms! Dementhus took a long dagger from his robes and cast another spell. The dagger glowed red hot. He plunged the burning blade into the undead thing’s rib cage. Flames engulfed the creature, and it crumpled to the floor, lifeless again. His apprentice had served him well in both life and death. Dementhus did not regret what he had done. He was cleaning the scorched blood off the dagger when his heart jolted within his chest. The amulet he wore around his neck was glowing a dark crimson. It was the same amulet he had received when he’d converted to the worship of Terminus. Its activation meant that Bafomeht, the priest king of Lux, was summoning him. The Prophet was the only person said to have survived a journey through the perpetual storm that surrounded the doomed city of Antium, a feat those on the Wizard Council had thought impossible. Dementhus knew it was true. Not only had Bafomeht survived, he had returned with the ultimate prize: the Words of Terminus, directly from the Dark God’s lips.