Substantive editing sample 52:
The legal clinic opens

In this sample from a memoir, I queried the phrase “outside the doorways” (how many doorways were there?), and I suggested that the author, a Jewish man, insert a sentence describing his reaction to the Christian stuff in the room where he would conduct his legal clinic. (You can see how he addressed this query and this suggestion in the “result” section of this sample.) I also suggested a consistent way to refer to Darlene, the pastor of the church. And I looked up and provided the formal names for the church and its soup kitchen.

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Original
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Finding opportunities to provide pro bono legal services for the needy is not difficult. In every community there are hundreds of families that cannot afford to pay an attorney or qualify for free legal services. Another big problem is logistics. Poor people don’t travel well. They can get intimidated by going out of the neighborhood to strange buildings, sterile offices, uncaring staff, stacks of forms to fill out, dozens of questions that they would rather not answer. They often don’t have phones to make appointments nor addresses to receive mail. When told by a receptionist to come back next Wednesday or the first Tuesday of the month for a client intake meeting, that’s about it for trying to see an attorney. I had been seeing attendees at a local soup kitchen informally for several years and had done the same at a local homeless shelter. But now I was planning on going to the same soup kitchen every Friday afternoon at lunchtime. When I described my proposed plan to Darlene, the minister of the Clinton Avenue Methodist Church, she was extremely supportive. My advertising budget for the free legal clinic was about fifty bucks for phone stickers, cards, flyers and a sandwich sign made from scrap wood that proclaimed in large black letters: “FREE LEGAL CLINIC TODAY” The Clinton Avenue Methodist Church is located in a troubled, rundown section of Kingston, New York. It has a large soup kitchen that serves hot meals to 50 to 150 men, women, and children each day from 12 noon to 1 o’clock in a large, sun-drenched, gym-type room. It also runs a GED program, a small warming center, and a well-run food pantry. It will now have an ongoing legal clinic. On a cold February afternoon, I set up my sidewalk sandwich sign outside the doorways to the soup kitchen. I found Darlene the minister in there up to her elbows in pots and pans. After a warm greeting, she escorted me to their annex, a large quiet room filled with pictures of Jesus, Mary and dozens of various crosses. The annex is directly next to the room where the attendees were seated at long folding tables having lunch. Some folks who wanted a chance to eat their lunch in quiet were seated at a table near the door. They didn’t look up as we entered the room. Looking around, the minister said, “It’s not much.” “It’s going be fine.”

Markup
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Finding opportunities to provide pro bono legal services for the needy is not difficult. In every community there are hundreds of families that families who cannot afford to pay an attorney or qualify for free legal services. Another big problem is logistics. Poor logistics: Poor people don’t travel well. They can get intimidated by going out of the neighborhood to strange buildings, sterile offices, uncaring staff, stacks of forms to fill out, dozens of questions that they would rather not answer. They often don’t have phones to make appointments nor addresses to receive mail. [I got rid of the paragraph break here] When told For many of them, [insertion okay? (this is not true for all of them—right?)] after being told by a receptionist to come back next back for a client intake meeting next Wednesday or the first Tuesday of the month for a client intake meeting, that’s month, that’s about it for trying to see an attorney. [I broke the paragraph here] I had been seeing attendees at a local soup kitchen informally for several years and had done the same at a local homeless shelter. But now I was planning on going to the same soup kitchen every Friday afternoon at lunchtime. [I got rid of the paragraph break here] When I described my proposed plan to Darlene, the minister the pastor [you refer to her as “Pastor Kelley” in chapter 10 and later (“Kelley” is the spelling in the Foreword, signed by “Rev. Darlene L. Kelley,” though in that chapter, you had misspelled the name “Kelly”...) You seem to be on informal terms with her, so I have consistently revised to “Darlene”... but we do need to be consistent. If you prefer “Pastor Kelley” (or in subsequent mentions in a chapter “the pastor”), I can change all instances of “Darlene.” Please decide. (“pastor” is definitely more common among Methodists than “minister” or “Reverend”)] of the Clinton Avenue Methodist Avenue United Methodist Church, [that’s the official name] she was extremely supportive. My advertising budget for the free legal clinic was about fifty bucks for phone stickers, cards, flyers and flyers, and a sandwich sign sandwich board sign made from scrap wood that proclaimed in large black letters: “FREE LEGAL CLINIC TODAY” “FREE LEGAL CLINIC TODAY” [No need for boldface (the ALL CAPS and the setting off on its own line is emphasis enough; overdoing emphasis gives readers a headache.)] The Clinton Avenue Methodist Avenue United Methodist Church is located in a troubled, rundown section of Kingston, New York. It has a large soup kitchen that serves hot [the present tense in the preceding sentence (“is located”) is accurate (the church is still there), but for the no-longer-operating soup kitchen, we need past tense (“had” and “served,” but see my further revision because “it had” is a weak, superfluous construction)] Its large Caring Hands Soup Kitchen [let’s use the soup kitchen’s formal name one time here, near the beginning, as well as at the end, in chapter 35] served hot meals to 50 to 150 men, women, and children each day from 12 noon to 1 o’clock from twelve noon to one o’clock in a large, sun-drenched, gym-type room. It also runs also ran a GED program, a small warming center, and a well-run food pantry. It will now It would now have an ongoing legal clinic. On a cold February afternoon, I set up my sidewalk sandwich sign sandwich board sign outside the doorways [more than one doorway?] to the soup kitchen. I found Darlene the minister in [we've already established that she was the minister (pastor)] Darlene in there up to her elbows in pots and pans. After a warm greeting, she escorted me to their annex, a large quiet room filled with pictures of Jesus, Mary and Mary, and dozens of various crosses. [Consider a sentence about how you, a Jewish man, might feel around all the Christian stuff. Nonchalance?] The annex is annex was directly next to the room where the attendees were seated at long folding tables having lunch seated, having lunch at long folding tables. [“the attendees,” not the “long folding tables,” were “having lunch” (yeah, of course, nobody would conclude that tables were eating lunch, but the faulty syntax slows down comprehension)] Some folks who wanted a chance to eat their lunch in quiet were seated at a table near the door. They didn’t look up as we entered the room. Looking around, the minister the pastor [okay?] said, “It’s not much.” “It’s going be fine.”

Result (after the author had reviewed the markup and answered my queries)
Click to go to the next sample in the series.

Finding opportunities to provide pro bono legal services for the needy is not difficult. In every community there are hundreds of families who cannot afford to pay an attorney or qualify for free legal services. Another big problem is logistics: Poor people don’t travel well. They can get intimidated by going out of the neighborhood to strange buildings, sterile offices, uncaring staff, stacks of forms to fill out, dozens of questions that they would rather not answer. They often don’t have phones to make appointments nor addresses to receive mail. For many of them, after being told by a receptionist to come back for a client intake meeting next Wednesday or the first Tuesday of the month, that’s about it for trying to see an attorney. I had been seeing attendees at a local soup kitchen informally for several years and had done the same at a local homeless shelter. But now I was planning on going to the same soup kitchen every Friday afternoon at lunchtime. When I described my proposed plan to Darlene, the pastor of the Clinton Avenue United Methodist Church, she was extremely supportive. My advertising budget for the free legal clinic was about fifty bucks for phone stickers, cards, flyers, and a sandwich board sign made from scrap wood that proclaimed in large black letters: “FREE LEGAL CLINIC TODAY” The Clinton Avenue United Methodist Church is located in a troubled, rundown section of Kingston, New York. Its large Caring Hands Soup Kitchen served hot meals to 50 to 150 men, women, and children each day from twelve noon to one o’clock in a large, sun-drenched, gym-type room. It also ran a GED program, a small warming center, and a well-run food pantry. It would now have an ongoing legal clinic. On a cold February afternoon, I set up my sidewalk sandwich board sign outside the double doorway to the soup kitchen. I found Darlene in there up to her elbows in pots and pans. After a warm greeting, she escorted me to their annex, a large quiet room filled with pictures of Jesus, Mary, and dozens of various crosses. As a former Hebrew School student, I was curious about the various prayer and hymn books and those pictures. The annex was directly next to the room where the attendees were seated, having lunch at long folding tables. Some folks who wanted a chance to eat their lunch in quiet were seated at a table near the door. They didn’t look up as we entered the room. Looking around, the pastor said, “It’s not much.” “It’s going be fine.”