Three Paragraphs
Dear Liz,
What a fantastic idea! In one of my grad school classes we spent more than 30 minutes editing just a couple paragraphs. Some students found the exercise defeating and excessive, but to me it was a valuable lesson about cutting through jargon and getting to the point. Needless to say, I’m still learning.
I’m submitting three paragraphs from a recent post on my website. I’m researching Muslim immigrants in Berlin, and the following is from a recent post on language flubs. I’d be delighted if you gave my writing a makeover!
Thanks for your time and generosity!
Jim
Dear Jim,
You’ve got a great story here. I thought what might make it more fun would be to let the reader “see,” rather than just read about it. So I edited in a little dialogue to give your story more personality
Hope this helps you see the difference when you show readers what’s happening, rather than just telling us.
Remember this is just one way to do it! Every editor edits differently.
Smiles,
Liz
Turn the page for the editorial makeover. It’s called, “Don’t Tell Me, Show Me.”
Before
I’ve had my hair cut twice at the mosque barbershop since writing about it earlier. The first time I entered the small space in the corner of the teahouse there were two barbers and a few customers all around my age. No one said much to me at first, and I wondered if it had to do with a poster on the door that showed a section of the Berlin wall with the words “Nur für mitglieder” [Members only] spray painted on it. Eventually one of the barbers addressed me as Jakob, to which I said “Excuse me?” in Turkish. He said that I looked like a German friend of his, but I felt like he was using a generic name for me because I was clearly a “foreigner.” After I gave him my standard story about being an American and married to a Turk, the other barber chimed in, calling me brother-in-law and making jokes about how Turks both love and beat up their brothers-in-law. It sounds like a hostile thing to say in English, but he was clearly joking around. And being called a brother-in-law by Turks is pretty standard when they learn I’m married to a Turkish woman.
Since we were on the subject of marriage, the jokester barber asked me if it’s true that same-sex marriages are legal in the U.S. I said that it’s allowed in at least one state, to which he responded, “Then can you find me a man to marry so I can get a U.S. visa?” I was a little surprised to hear that joke in a mosque complex, but I just laughed and marveled at his opportunism. I said I’d look into it for him, but something tells me U.S. immigration policy ain’t quite ready for that yet.
Next, as so often happens when religious Turkish guys learn that I’m married to a Turk and researching Islam, the subject of circumcision came up. Islam requires Muslim boys to be circumcised, and in Turkey, that usually happens when a boy is between the age of 4 and 9. The ritual is celebrated with big parties and the boys typically wear special pasha costumes. (I’ve been told, suggestively, that they’re available in all sizes.) Suffice it to say that many jokes, with far too much use of the word “ax,” were made in the barbershop that day. Indeed, every time I see the barber now, we’ll either make a joke about circumcision or finding him a husband.
After
The first time I entered the small barbershop, in the corner of the teahouse, I saw two barbers and a few customers all around my age. No one said much at first.
I wondered if it had to do with a poster on the door that showed a section of the Berlin wall with the words “Nur für mitglieder” [Members only] spray painted across it.
Eventually one of the barbers said, “Jakob.”
I said “Excuse me?” in Turkish. He said that I looked like a German friend of his, but I felt like he was using a generic name for me because I was clearly a “foreigner.”
I gave him my standard story about being an American and married to a Turk. The other barber chimed in, calling me brother-in-law and making jokes about how Turks both love and beat up their brothers-in-law. It sounds like hostile in English, but he was smiling and joking. Turks often call me brother-in-law, when they learn I’m married to a Turkish woman.
We were just guys in a mosque barbershop talking about marriage. The barber, who liked a clever conversation, asked, Is it true that same-sex marriages are legal in the U.S.?”
“It’s allowed in at least one state.”
“Then can you find me a man to marry so I can get a U.S. visa?”
Surprised at that joke in a mosque complex, I laughed and marveled at his opportunism.
“I”ll look into it for you, but something tells me U.S. immigration policy ain’t quite ready for that yet.”
As often happens when religious Turkish guys learn that I’m married to a Turk and researching Islam, the subject of circumcision came up. Islam requires Muslim boys to be circumcised, and in Turkey, that usually happens when a boy is between the age of 4 and 9.
“There are big parties and the boys wear elgant pasha costumes.” said one barber
“They make costumes big enough to fit you,” added a friend.
Too much fun and too many jokes, using the word “ax,” were made that day. Now every time I see the barber, we’ll make a joke about circumcision or finding him a husband.
–ME “Liz Strauss
If youââ¬â¢d like Liz to coach you with your writing, visit the Work with Liz!! page in the sidebar.
Related articles
Editorial Makeover 1: Donââ¬â¢t Tell Me, Show Me
See the Power Writing for Everyone series on the SUCCESSFUL SERIES page
Hi Liz,
Thanks for taking on my story! (Here is the full version for anyone interested.) http://jimgibbon.com/2006/07/07/should-we-circumcise-this-guy-or-should-we-finish-these-strawberries
I really like the approach you took. I’ve often thought about the “don’t tell me, show me” idea when it comes to films (especially documentaries that use way too many “talking heads” instead of interesting visuals), but I don’t think it would’ve crossed my mind to apply the same concept to my writing without your help.
With just a subtle change in style you’ve made the story much more human and accessible.
I really appreciate your efforts and I hope others take you up on this great opportunity!
All the best,
Jim
I edited your comment, JIm, to make the link come through.
Hi Jim,
Thank for your comment. WordPress mangled it a bit when I put the link back in –sorry.
I enjoyed the story as you wrote it. So it took so thinking to find a way to give it a makeover. You presented a challenge that was fun!
I’m delighted that you like the new version too.
Liz
Sorry, the original version was several times better:
* It was shorter
* It was more personable (felt more like the author was talking to me)
* It had more of the author’s personality and voice
* It had a rhythm and flow
* It lacked the errors of ambiguity and grammar that you introduced into the second version (e.g. whose “friend” added the comment? “Sounds like hostile in English”?)
* It had a greater air of veracity (yours doesn’t sound like the person telling the story was really there)
And all that’s not counting the places where you actually changed the *meaning* of what he said, or added literal quotes of people saying things that he only summarized, etc.
Are you sure you didn’t accidentally swap which one was the “before” and which one was the “after”? Your version was virtually unreadable by comparison to the original, turning a colorful reminiscence piece into a sappy magazine article.
As far as I can see, the only editing the original really needed was some extra paragraph breaks, and the bit about being called Jakob could’ve been rearranged to flow more easily, e.g. something like:
Eventually one of the barbers addressed me as Jakob — a generic name sometimes used here to refer to foreigners. When I replied ââ¬ÅExcuse me?ââ¬Â in Turkish, he tried to excuse himself by saying that I looked like a German friend of his.
That’s about the only bit I’d have touched in the original.
Hi Philip!
Welcome, thank you for taking the time for your detailed comment. I always appreciate another viewpoint, especially one that is offered with such thought.
Perhaps you’ll allow me a few words before I reply to say that I’m writing on a very small screen, as I don’t have the pleaure of being at home, nor did I when I worked on Jim’s paragraphs.
As to the makeover are a few places where the editorial task leaves the world of “real writing” and moves into the world of “an exercise” of playing with words.
By nature of taking an excerpt rather than an entire piece, we’ve already ruined what was the author’s work. It’s not representative.
I once asked the president of a publishing company to give the same writing sample to 25 editors for just such an exercise and he got 25 extremely different edits in return. That’s the nature of editing. That’s the nature editorial work. It’s about dialogue. Most often it’s not about wrong or right, but about different and about choices and possibilities.
That’s what I was showing here.
Regarding your points, I’m happy to remark on them.
Shorter is often better I agree. Short can also be bland and uninteresting. Sometimes variety in sentence length and sentence structure adds life and interest that brevity lacks. The only judge there is the reader. Different readers have different preferences.
Your next two points — they seem the same to me — are most likely true. I was not reaching to maintain Jim’s voice. Perhaps I should have been. I was merely showing how using dialogue might have helped Jim add movement to his story.
I disagree about rhythm and flow. I found the long sentences hard to follow, which, for me, detracted from the flow. But as I said earlier, editors often disagree. 🙂
Thank you for finding the like hostile error. I do make plain old ordinary mistakes. I thought I had deleted that “iike” and did not. The error is typographical and proofreading. (I have problems there, especially on this machine.)
Regarding changinge the pargarphrased comments to quotes . . . that again was for the purpose of this exercise only.
I really do appreciate your views and the paragraph rewirte you offer is certainly a valid alternative.
Thanks for the comment, Phillip.
I hope you’ll be back again.
Liz