Substantive editing sample 20:
Was he hitting on me?
An editor needs to carefully analyze dialogue to ensure that each utterance logically accounts for the action in the scene. Also, by going over the text slowly, word by word (even reading aloud), an editor can detect an author’s incomplete repair from one draft to the next (for example, the surplus “what” in the garbled phrase “I wouldn’t like what how he earned his money”). Finally, an editor tries to break paragraphs within dialogue, dedicating each paragraph to a single character in the exchange.
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Original
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Ted was watching me closely while I spoke, which was making me nervous again. “What are you staring at?” I finally asked.
“I don’t know why I didn’t notice this at lunch,” he said, leaning into me, “but you’re a handsome guy. Your face, it’s got character.” He grinned. “Like a fine statue,” he leaned his shoulder into me and lowered his voice, “hard around the edges but with soft lines in the middle, etched by experience, no doubt.” I felt his knee gently bump into mine.
“That’s a hell of a way of saying I have wrinkles.” I looked away and took another long drink of the beer.
“Think of it however you like, Frank.” He looked left and right. “I’m just saying that you’re an attractive guy.”
I turned back to Ted for a closer look. Even though we’d sat next to each other a couple of times, I hadn’t paid much attention to him, hadn’t checked him out. Was he hitting on me? If he was, would I be interested? He had deep brown eyes and his face lacked the marks of experience that mine apparently had, even though we had to be close to the same age. He was trim, dressed in faded blue jeans and a plaid button down, and had obviously used product to make his short brown hair flow in waves.
He took care of himself. I just wasn’t sure yet if I even liked him. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like what how he earned his money, if I knew more of the details.
“Ted, are you hitting on me?” I finally asked, looking straight into those brown eyes.
“Only if you want me to,” he whispered.
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Markup
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Ted was watching me closely while I spoke, which was making me nervous again. “What are you staring at?” I finally asked.
“I don’t know why I didn’t notice this at lunch,” he said, leaning into me, “but you’re a handsome guy. Your face, it’s face—it’s got character.” He grinned. “Like a fine statue,” he leaned statue.” He leaned his shoulder into me and lowered his voice, “hard around voice. “Hard around the edges but with soft lines in the middle, etched middle—etched by experience, no doubt.” I felt his knee gently bump into mine.
“That’s a hell of a way of saying I have wrinkles.” I looked away and took another long drink of the beer.
“Think of it however you like, Frank.” He looked left and right. “I’m just saying that you’re an attractive guy.”
I turned back to Ted for a closer look. Even though we’d sat next to each other a couple of times, I hadn’t paid much attention to him, hadn’t checked him out. Was he hitting on me? If he was, would I be interested? [It’s pretty damn obvious that Ted is “hitting on” Frank. Consider changing “Was he hitting on me? If he was, would I be interested?” to “Evidently, he was hitting on me. Would I be interested?”] He had deep brown eyes and eyes, and his face lacked the marks of experience that mine apparently had, even though we had to be close to the same age. He was trim, dressed trim, he was dressed in faded blue jeans and a plaid button down plaid button-down, and had and he had obviously used product to make his short brown hair flow in waves. [I got rid of the paragraph break here.] He took care of himself. I just wasn’t sure yet if I even liked him. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like what how like how he earned his money, if I knew more money if I learned more of the details.
“Ted, are you hitting on me?” I finally asked, looking straight into those brown eyes.
“Only if you want me to,” he whispered.
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Result
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Ted was watching me closely while I spoke, which was making me nervous again. “What are you staring at?” I finally asked.
“I don’t know why I didn’t notice this at lunch,” he said, leaning into me, “but you’re a handsome guy. Your face—it’s got character.” He grinned. “Like a fine statue.” He leaned his shoulder into me and lowered his voice. “Hard around the edges but with soft lines in the middle—etched by experience, no doubt.” I felt his knee gently bump into mine.
“That’s a hell of a way of saying I have wrinkles.” I looked away and took another long drink of the beer.
“Think of it however you like, Frank.” He looked left and right. “I’m just saying that you’re an attractive guy.”
I turned back to Ted for a closer look. Even though we’d sat next to each other a couple of times, I hadn’t paid much attention to him, hadn’t checked him out. Evidently, he was hitting on me. Would I be interested? He had deep brown eyes, and his face lacked the marks of experience that mine apparently had, even though we had to be close to the same age. He was trim, he was dressed in faded blue jeans and a plaid button-down, and he had obviously used product to make his short brown hair flow in waves. He took care of himself. I just wasn’t sure yet if I even liked him. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like how he earned his money if I learned more of the details.
“Ted, are you hitting on me?” I finally asked, looking straight into those brown eyes.
“Only if you want me to,” he whispered.
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