Jill Williamson is a chocolate loving, daydreaming, creator of kingdoms. She writes weird books in lots of weird genres like fantasy (Blood of Kings and Kinsman Chronicles), science fiction (Replication), and dystopian (The Safe Lands trilogy). Find Jill on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, or on her author website. You can also try two of her fantasy novels for free here and here.
A couple Mondays ago, Stephanie talked about how to write characters who are different from each other. I had a guest post scheduled that week, so today, I wanted to catch up on that subject and show you how such a thing might look on the page. Since I have access to my first and last drafts, I’ll show you some actual examples of how I increased and decreased my word counts.
If your books are too short
Description
“First!” I jogged up the split log steps of Deadwood Lodge and yanked on the antler door handle. It didn’t budge.“This ain’t a race, McShane.” Andy Reinhold, a retired US Army Ranger, our guide, and owner of Wilderness Way Adventures, clumped up the stairs behind me. “What? Is it locked? It shouldn’t be.”
“First!” I jogged up the split log steps of Deadwood Lodge and yanked on the antler door handle. It didn’t budge.“This ain’t a race, boy.” Andy Reinhold, a retired US Army Ranger—our guide, and owner of Wilderness Way Adventures—clumped up the stairs behind me. “What? Is it locked? It shouldn’t be.” His hair and beard were so bushy that his eyes were pretty much all you could see of his face. The quintessential mountain man.
“Land.” It really was. “Land!” [Trevn] yelled down. “Land to port beam!” He wasn’t the only one to have seen it. Signal flags were waving high on three of the nearest ships.This must be the island Captain Livina had discovered. Was there truly only one? He squinted into the distance but could not see any other islands from this vantage point.Might this place become their new home? It didn’t look large enough to him.
“Land.” It really was. “Land!” [Trevn] yelled down. “Land to port beam!” He wasn’t the only one to have seen it. Signal flags were waving high on three of the nearest ships.They had reached Bakurah Island. A few days before schedule, as the admiral had predicted. Trevn pulled out his grow lens and studied the shoreline. It didn’t seem to have much more than a sloping elevation. There were no cliffs or cracks that he could see, no river holes, no distant mountains. The strangeness of that and the multitude of trees set him on guard. From what he knew of land, this didn’t look large enough to support the passengers of some six hundred boats. Trevn squinted into the distance but saw no other islands from this vantage point. Beneath the ship, the water was so clear that he could see a massive coral reef with colorful fish darting about.
“The electricity is out all over?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t know ’bout all over,” Pete said, “but it’s been out ’round here for the past three days.”
“Three days!” Logan shrieked. “That’s a long time for the power to be out.”
“Sure is,” Pete said.
“Does that work like a hand water pump?” I asked.
“That’s right.”
“Looks like pee,” Logan said.
“Nice, Logan,” I said.
“Well it does,” Logan said. “I’ve never seen gas before. You know, like in a see-through glass. I didn’t know what color it was.”
“You know why the power is out?” I asked Pete.
He slid the pump nozzle into the Evoque’s gas tank and flipped a switch. The gas in the globe started to drain. “All I can reckon is that everyone got too sick to work the grid.”
“Everyone got sick?” Zaq asked.
“I suspect so.”
“What kind of sick?” Logan asked.
“How’s it you ain’t hear of the sick? It all but took over the world the past two weeks.”
“We’ve been camping,” Riggs said.
“Well, it all happened real fast like. I had a blood sugar test over in Flagstaff. Had to fast from food and drink the day before. That’s when it hit ’round here. By the time I got to the doctor’s office, the place was a madhouse. Doc told me not to drink any water that wasn’t bottled. It’s why I’m still healthy.”
And here is the rewritten text (296 words):
“The electricity is out all over?” I asked.“Well, I don’t know ‘bout all over,” Pete said, “but it’s been out ‘round here for the past three days.”“Three days!” Logan shrieked. “That’s a long time to be without power.”“Sure is,” Pete said.“Does that work like a hand water pump?” I asked, intrigued by the old gas pump.“That’s right.”“Looks like pee,” Logan said.I snorted. “Nice, Logan.”“Well it does.” Logan slurped at his braces. He’d never really gotten used to them. “I’ve never seen gas before. You know, like in a see-through container. I didn’t know what color it was.”“You know why the power is out?” I asked Pete.He slid the pump nozzle into the Evoque’s gas tank and flipped a switch. The gas in the globe started to drain. “All I can reckon is that everyone got too sick to work the grid.”“Everyone got sick?” Zaq asked.“I suspect so.”I thought back to the rash on the dead man’s body. “Something going around?”“How’s it you ain’t heard of the sick? It all but took over the world the past two weeks.”My stomach twisted. Zaq raised his eyebrows at me. Yeah, Pete was giving me the heebie jeebies too.“We’ve been camping,” Riggs said.“What happened?” I asked.The globe had emptied. Pete flipped the switch again and went back to cranking the handle. “I had a blood sugar test over in Flagstaff. Had to fast from food and drink the day before. That’s when it hit ‘round here. It all happened real fast like. By the time I got to the doctor’s office, the place was a madhouse. Doc told me not to drink any water that wasn’t bottled. That’s why I’m still healthy.”
A gorgeous supermodel was waiting outside. I slowed down, staring at her face and legs and, well, everything. She had dark skin; thick, long black hair, and a tight dress that left little to my over-active imagination.“Kimatra!” Nick pushed past me, knocking into my shoulder.The supermodel smiled at Nick, reached out to him. “Hey, baby.”Nick grabbed her, twirled her around, and pushed her up against the wall of the school. Then they started tongue dancing.Dang.I looked away, annoyed that Nick had a psychotically hot girlfriend. But then I remembered that name. Kimatra.I jogged to catch up with Isabel. “Hey, can I talk to you?”
. . . a gorgeous girl was waiting outside the classroom. I slowed down so I could stare at her face and legs and, well, everything. She had dark skin; thick, long black hair; and a tight dress that left little to my overactive imagination. But that wasn’t what caught my attention—seriously. I had seen this girl before. In a movie. Jolt II, to be precise.I was about to meet the pregnant actress from yesterday’s vision.Only she didn’t look pregnant. At all.Before I could figure out what to say, Nick pushed past, knocking into my shoulder.The actress smiled wide, reached out to him. “Hey, baby.”Nick grabbed her, twirled her around, and they started sucking face.Dang.As I was staring way too hard, I caught sight of faint Jolt grid marks up her right arm and forgot to breathe.Were those for real? Or was she just fangirling, like those Doctor Whovians with their pen-and-ink hash marks?Wait. Forget that. Nick’s girlfriend was pregnant!Or soon would be.My whole face burned at that thought. Mother pus bucket, what was I supposed to do now?The actress broke away from Nick and waved at Isabel, who had just exit the classroom. “Hi, Bella, girl,” she sang.Isabel smirked, real unfriendly like, said, “Hola, Kimatra,” and kept on going.That name—Kimatra—sent another memory rushing over me. Something Prière had once said. Nick and Kimatra relocated their make-out session to a nearby tree. I stared until Arianna exited the classroom and gave me a dirty look that brought me back to earth.I took off after Isabel, walking as fast as my crippled self could. I caught up with her in the parking lot. “Hey, you know that girl Kimatra, right? Can I ask you some questions about her?”
If your books are too long
I had to get away. Anya had practically killed me last summer with her knife, and I really didn’t want her to know I now sported a cross-shaped scar on my chest. I had a feeling she’d take that as proof that I was the profile match she’d been looking for and decide to torture me for information I knew nothing about.
I had to get away. Anya had practically killed me last summer with her knife, and I didn’t want her to know I now sported a cross-shaped scar on my chest. I had a feeling she’d take that as proof that I was the guy she’d been looking for and decide to torture me for information I knew nothing about.