Wreck and Rebuild a Paragraph #2
Our Wreck and Rebuild victim of the week is mabonwitch, who volunteered not only her paragraph, but also gave her own critical breakdown.
Before I get into it, I will offer my usual disclaimer:
My comments are not personal, any rewrites are less so, and my only intent is to show a different approach as suggestions. There is no obligation to take them, no hurt feelings on my part if you don't, and everything is up for discussion. I have only a short snippet to work with so I don't have the complete picture, and will be making assumptions as I go along.
The original paragraph is:
In the weeks that followed Camelot's reclamation, it became clear that Uther was not going to recover. Arthur fretted to Merlin at night, sometimes worrying over his father's health, others complaining that they needed to begin holding court again.
Three weeks in, Merlin was settling a supper tray on Arthur's table when he came in looking stunned. The crown of Camelot was in his hand. Merlin straightened. Surely someone would have said if Uther was dying?
"He says he's not fit to be king anymore. He says I will have to rule." Arthur's face is both stricken and excited. "Merlin."
And of course Merlin understands. Arthur was made to be king. Arthur will make better, brighter choices for Camelot. But Arthur loves his father and it must hurt him to see Uther so hurt. Merlin said the only thing he could. "You will be a great king, Arthur."
Arthur took some strength from that. "I'm to be crowned in three days."
Merlin groaned. "You're going to make me clean your boots and your best clothes, aren't you?"
Arthur smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You'll also need to clean my sword, my armor, my cloak, and all of my boots. And don't forget to polish this." He set the crown down carefully on the table.
Merlin rolled his eyes, ducking Arthur's cuff to the side of his head. "Yes, sire."
First Impressions
Right off the bat, we know it's a Merlin fic, and it starts in an omniscient POV by giving an external narrator's voice -- the God Looking Down From Above POV -- and which also sets the scene. The scene-setting also positions us in Canon!verse, so we know roughly when this fic occurs. The POV changes to Merlin by the end of the second paragraph, transitions briefly into Arthur's, and returns to Merlin's. Because the situation is a tense, strained one, we see our boys trying to lighten the tone by falling into their usual banter, but I can see (if I squint) an attempt to make it awkward, as if they know that they are growing up and their roles are changing. At the end, I am happy to see that brief moment of domestic bliss, and I have a bad feeling that very soon, something is going to disturb or completely ruin it.
The snippet has all of the scene-setting elements, they're all in the right order, but they're a little sparse. Right from the bat, there's a camera zooming in on the scene, but it goes from way too far out and zooms way to close in in a very short period of time. I can normally overlook this kind of thing -- you'll notice in most novels, a quick transition like this happens frequently enough to bring a reader right into the action -- if I can also immediately absorb the characters' motivations and mindsets. It's the motivations and mindsets that are missing here.
Mabonwitch made a self-assessment of her own paragraph caught everything that I spotted -- although, um. I wasn't going to say anything about that nasty friend -- that Mr Verb Tense person.
Here are the things that she spotted and my comments to each:
1. The transition between time passing in a general way and it suddenly being a specific night feels odd to me. Too sudden, maybe.
This is the Omniscient POV suddenly becoming limited to a single person's POV. The effect can be as jarring as having a camera on a landscape and suddenly getting a macro image of the eyeball of the person who was supposed to be a speck on that landscape portrait. Between going from Way Out There to Hello You're In My Personal Space, the reader completely loses any possible connection to the character -- there's no emotional connection. This can be fixed.
2. Merlin's question, which is meant to be internal, also sticks out like a sore thumb. I don't know whether to delete it, italicize it, or do something else.
The question in, er... question is: Surely someone would have said if Uther was dying?. The three things that can be done are to delete it -- there's no real need, since in the first paragraph there is already mention of Uther dying ("became clear that Uther was not going to recover"); italicize it -- since, yes, it's an internal question, and it's usually good practice to do something to indicate if a statement or a question is right out of a character's head or something internal (by using italics, or by adding a "..., he thought" tag, similar to a dialogue tag); or do something else entirely.
The "something else entirely" would be to reword the question slightly, or elaborate on it in some way. A simple reword could be, Surely someone would have said if Uther had died?; an elaboration would involve more work. This can be fixed.
3. Ugh, I see my friend What Verb Tense Are We Using Here? managed to slip in there as well.
The hardest part of writing anything (besides figuring out POV) is to decide what tense you want to write it in. There is no simple answer to this. For example, I have a hard time writing in present tense and have great admiration for those who write in it, but for me it just feels natural to write in past tense, and adjust the verb tense as needed. I blame learning eleventy-million French verb tenses. No, seriously. There are eleventy-million French verb tenses. I had to memorize them all in high school. IT SUCKED. But, anyway, once you decide what tense the story would best be written in, it becomes easier to just write in that tense. It can be fixed.
4. Merlin's thoughts again, this time about the sort of king Arthur will be. They don't really match the tone of the scene, and they sound like bad poetry.
Actually I don't have an issue with thinky-thoughts. Thinky-thoughts are what makes a fic go round. Without the thinky-thoughts, the reader doesn't get involved in the thought process and motivations of a character. Thinky-thoughts are important -- it's not something I do well and I envy those who do. But as much as I love thinky-thoughts, sometimes you need to hear the actual thought process that goes into the thinky thought to make it more poignant.
For example, if I write: Fred was pretty sure he was hungry, well, that's kind of missing something. But if I write, There wasn't a damn thing on the table that Fred could eat. Monkey brains? Ox balls? Sheep bladder? What was this, a new version of the Atkins diet? Haven't these people heard about normal food? God. Fred's stomach would probably go out and slaughter its own cow just for a hamburger., you get a completely new dimension on the character.
Again, this can be fixed.
5. Erp, apparently I snuck in a line of Arthur's POV as well.
POVs are fun. Just. Not when another POV butts its way in. It's hard to limit yourself to just one POV -- I didn't get the hang of it for a while when I was starting to write, so I know it's tough. But those lines are easy to fix, and you can stop them from happening by telling the other POV character very sternly to butt out, you'll get your turn.
6. I could generally do with a little more show-don't-tell.
Yes, definitely. But remember my rule: There are no rules. In this particular case, showing things will help the reader get a better grasp of what's going on, while telling things will help move things along. It's a matter of finding a good balance between the two, but no one but you can decide what that good balance is.
Now, I'll get to what's missing: the character motivations. I'm going to start by making a few assumptions based on the paragraph:
1. Everyone's walking on eggshells because they don't want to insult the old king while he's still alive, and they don't quite know how to act around Arthur yet.
2. Merlin's worried about Arthur's state of mind. Obviously this is a very stressful time. The only thing he can think of to alleviate or distract Arthur's tension is by reverting them to their old roles of prattish prince and incompetent manservant.
3. Arthur is drained and drawn and he needs not only reassurance, but he needs to stop feeling guilty and he needs to sort it out in his head that he will need to grieve properly even though he's not going to have the time for it down the road.
These things need to be addressed in the paragraph, but there are so many things that could be added or included. Anything I write from here on out is only ONE option. There are several other ones, even some I haven't thought of, that could be used instead. So, proceed with caution.
When I edit other people's work, I go through the document and leave comments and ask questions. I'm going to do the same thing here.
In the weeks that followed Camelot's reclamation [Reclamation from what? From whom? Did they just go through a war?], it became clear that Uther was not going to recover [Why? What happened? Is it a severe injury? A severe illness? Is he deteriorating?]. Arthur fretted to Merlin at night, sometimes worrying over his father's health, others complaining that they needed to begin holding court again [Arthur is fretting over only two things in this; surely he is worried for far more -- but what are those other things?].
Three weeks in, Merlin was settling a supper tray on Arthur's table when he came in looking stunned. The crown of Camelot was in his hand. Merlin straightened. Surely someone would have said if Uther was dying? [There is an action-reaction sequence issue here. Was Merlin already looking stunned when he settled the supper tray on Arthur's table? Or did he look up and become stunned by what he saw?]
"He says he's not fit to be king anymore. He says I will have to rule." Arthur's face is both stricken and excited. [We're being told how Arthur is feeling, but we're not sure why he's feeling these things.] "Merlin."
And of course Merlin understands. Arthur was made to be king. Arthur will make better, brighter choices for Camelot. But Arthur loves his father and it must hurt him to see Uther so hurt. Merlin said the only thing he could. [But now we see why, and it should be an ah-ha moment, but it's missing something]"You will be a great king, Arthur."
Arthur took some strength from that. "I'm to be crowned in three days."
Merlin groaned. "You're going to make me clean your boots and your best clothes, aren't you?" [we've gone from being serious, to suddenly changing the mood. What made Merlin transition like this? I'd like to see his thought process.]
Arthur smirked. [Does Arthur recognize what Merlin is trying to do? Seeing him shaken out of his mindset might be more effective if we see the wheels turning in his head, too] "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You'll also need to clean my sword, my armor, my cloak, and all of my boots. And don't forget to polish this." He set the crown down carefully on the table.
Merlin rolled his eyes, ducking Arthur's cuff to the side of his head. "Yes, sire."
As you can see, there's nothing wrong with the sequence of the paragraph. The scene is laid out in the right order. There's a minor action-reaction sequence thing that needs to be changed around. But most of my questions and comments have to do with needing an emotional connection with the characters, since otherwise the reader is being told what's going on instead of being drawn in and getting invested in the story.
I'm going to rework the snippet, paragraph by paragraph -- and I'm going to apologize right now, because the setup is so delicious that I took it and ran away with it:
Merlin couldn't stand to watch Arthur crumble under the strain of holding both the broken remnants of kingdom and family together for one moment longer.
In the weeks since reclaiming Camelot from Morgana's attempted coup, Arthur had spent every waking moment working to rebuild the castle, to patrol the land and restore calm to the countryside, to endure court and council in his father's stead, and suffer the visiting lords and ladies with the best humour he could manage. Anyone else would see Arthur holding fast despite the turmoil, regal and in command, but no one but Merlin saw Arthur fretting at night, worrying for his father's health, troubled by the state of the country, and doubting himself and his decisions.
It broke Merlin's heart to see Arthur like this. He needed to do something. Maybe he could enlist the Knights to help him kidnap Arthur and they could go on one of those meaningless hunts that always seemed to cheer Arthur up. Or maybe he could suggest a training session with Merlin as the target -- Arthur always emerged from those with a big smile on his face.
Until he could contrive such dastardly plans, Merlin had to employ other tactics to cheer him up. Starting with a supper tray full of Arthur's favourites.
Here, I started with a first line that would hook the reader in. I did that to let them know what they were in for, and what Merlin's dilemma is. I got rid of the omniscient point of view and settled the snippet firmly in Merlin's head. I described the overall scene, what Arthur has been doing, how hard he was working himself, and what Merlin saw him suffering that no one else did. And because he's Arthur's friend, he's determined to cheer him up, somehow.
Merlin bustled into the prince's chambers, kicking the door closed behind him. He set out the wine glass, the pitcher, the utensils, the platter of food, waiting for Arthur to notice that Merlin was putting them out in the wrong spots. When he'd finished and Arthur hadn't made a single peep, Merlin frowned.
He froze and stood up straight when he saw the crown of Camelot in Arthur's hand.
Did that mean -- did it... Merlin hadn't heard. No one had warned him --
"Ar -- Arthur?"
I wrote this section to give the feeling that this is routine. Merlin's going through the same motions he's been going through ever since he became Arthur's manservant, and he's deliberately making mistakes to try to provoke Arthur out of a potential bad mood. Only, the situation isn't as Merlin expected it, and when he sees the crown, he assumes the worst -- and so does the reader, so there's no need to spell it out for the reader.
"He says he's not fit to be king anymore. He says I will have to rule." Arthur's voice is thick with emotion, his face pale. His mouth moved, trying to express his thoughts, but he only managed a small gasp, a helpless plead. "Merlin."
Arthur couldn't see what Merlin saw every day. He didn't know that he was made to rule, that he would make better, brighter choices for Camelot. He couldn't believe it because was drowning in the guilt of breaching filial loyalty and premature guilt. Merlin didn't know what he could do to make Arthur believe in his destiny, but he knew what Arthur needed to hear.
"You will be a great king, Arthur."
I kept as much of the original dialogue as I could, which I quite liked, but I coupled it with emotion and feeling and sensation in the form of action and sound and struggling. Merlin immediately knows what Arthur is asking for and he answers in kind.
Arthur straightened in his seat, his shoulders rounding back, his chin lifting. Uncertainty lingered in the press of his lips and the quiet of his tone. "I'm to be crowned in three days."
Instead of saying that it gives Arthur courage to hear Merlin's words, I tried to show it in his movements.
Only, the announcement isn't taken very well by Merlin, who sees the downside for himself:
Platitudes, reassurances, comfort -- Merlin suddenly didn't care about Arthur's little crisis, because he knew what a coronation entailed. He'd never attended one, but the servants at the castle were talking, and everyone was dreading it. Merlin sat down heavily in the chair next to Arthur and groaned.
"You're going to make me clean your boots and your best clothes, aren't you?"
Arthur's eyebrow quirked. There was a pause and a look -- that look Arthur always gave Merlin when he wondered how he'd ended up saddled with an incompetent servant -- before a small smirk tugged at his lips.
Right here, I tried to show the progression of Arthur breaking out of his funk a little, of responding to Merlin's cheek, of falling back into their usual routine of snark.
"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You'll also need to clean my sword, my armor, my cloak, and all of my boots."
Merlin rolled his eyes, narrowly ducking Arthur's cuff to the side of his head. "Will that be all, sire?"
Arthur stared at his hands. Very slowly, Arthur set the crown on the table. "Don't forget to polish this."
In this moment, Arthur threatens to slip back into his worry, into his own thoughts, and, well, Merlin can't have that:
Merlin stared at the crown before meeting Arthur's raw, red eyes. "Well. If you're going to be wearing this, I'll have to get it fitted for size too. Your head is. Well. Kind of. Dollop-sized."
"Merlin!"
I didn't mean to do a complete rewrite like this, but sometimes that's what you need to do -- strip out all the important details and pull everything back together. The original word count was 229 words; I went wild and tripled it to 626 words, because I think this scene really needed to be expanded a bit more.
Here it is in its entirety:
Merlin couldn't stand to watch Arthur crumble under the strain of holding both the broken remnants of kingdom and family together for one moment longer.
In the weeks since reclaiming Camelot from Morgana's attempted coup, Arthur had spent every waking moment working to rebuild the castle, to patrol the land and restore calm to the countryside, to endure court and council in his father's stead, and suffer the visiting lords and ladies with the best humour he could manage. Anyone else would see Arthur holding fast despite the turmoil, regal and in command, but no one but Merlin saw Arthur fretting at night, worrying for his father's health, troubled by the state of the country, and doubting himself and his decisions.
It broke Merlin's heart to see Arthur like this. He needed to do something. Maybe he could enlist the Knights to help him kidnap Arthur and they could go on one of those meaningless hunts that always seemed to cheer Arthur up. Or maybe he could suggest a training session with Merlin as the target -- Arthur always emerged from those with a big smile on his face.
Until he could contrive such dastardly plans, Merlin had to employ other tactics to cheer him up. Starting with a supper tray full of Arthur's favourites.
Merlin bustled into the prince's chambers, kicking the door closed behind him. He set out the wine glass, the pitcher, the utensils, the platter of food, waiting for Arthur to notice that Merlin was putting them out in the wrong spots. When he'd finished and Arthur hadn't made a single peep, Merlin frowned.
He froze and stood up straight when he saw the crown of Camelot in Arthur's hand.
Did that mean -- did it... Merlin hadn't heard. No one had warned him --
"Ar -- Arthur?"
"He says he's not fit to be king anymore. He says I will have to rule." Arthur's voice is thick with emotion, his face pale. His mouth moved, trying to express his thoughts, but he only managed a small gasp, a helpless plead. "Merlin."
Arthur couldn't see what Merlin saw every day. He didn't know that he was made to rule, that he would make better, brighter choices for Camelot. He couldn't believe it because was drowning in the guilt of breaching filial loyalty and premature guilt. Merlin didn't know what he could do to make Arthur believe in his destiny, but he knew what Arthur needed to hear.
"You will be a great king, Arthur."
Arthur straightened in his seat, his shoulders rounding back, his chin lifting. Uncertainty lingered in the press of his lips and the quiet of his tone. "I'm to be crowned in three days."
Platitudes, reassurances, comfort -- Merlin suddenly didn't care about Arthur's little crisis, because he knew what a coronation entailed. He'd never attended one, but the servants at the castle were talking, and everyone was dreading it. Merlin sat down heavily in the chair next to Arthur and groaned.
"You're going to make me clean your boots and your best clothes, aren't you?"
Arthur's eyebrow quirked. There was a pause and a look -- that look Arthur always gave Merlin when he wondered how he'd ended up saddled with an incompetent servant -- before a small smirk tugged at his lips.
"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You'll also need to clean my sword, my armor, my cloak, and all of my boots."
Merlin rolled his eyes, narrowly ducking Arthur's cuff to the side of his head. "Will that be all, sire?"
Arthur stared at his hands. Very slowly, Arthur set the crown on the table. "Don't forget to polish this."
Merlin stared at the crown before meeting Arthur's raw, red eyes. "Well. If you're going to be wearing this, I'll have to get it fitted for size too. Your head is. Well. Kind of. Dollop-sized."
"Merlin!"