Posted: February 10, 2018

All the King's Editors: Pace and Point of View

Last November I introduced a new feature at Writer Unboxed -- the Editor's Clinic, where I and other WU editors line-edit and comment on a sample submitted by readers. It's a chance for readers to see editing in its natural habitat.

Even if you're not a regular reader of Writer Unboxed (though, why wouldn't you be?), you're welcome to submit a sample to the clinic. Just email five pages or so to me, and I'll put it on our list of submissions. Sooner or later, I or one of WU's stable of editors will edit it and put it out there.

And in the meantime, here is this month's Clinic entry.

I hate sirens. E, especially at night.,��Whenever I hear one,�slicing through the silence like, sharp as a scalpel. Whenever I hear the screech of an ambulance, I make the sign of the cross. My mother taught me that. �It�s a silent prayer,� she�my mother always said. I can't help but always wonder what awful event the ambulance is rushing toward, triggered a frantic call to 911 and if my prayer made a difference.

But, I�m shaking too much at the moment to make the sign of the cross.�Because tonight, I'm the eventand right now, the gesture feels pathetic, inadequate. [1]

I look down at the red stream of blood. It�s life itself. My heart might explode with fear, with regret, with grief.

The EMT speaks urgently over the radio. �BP eighty over sixty80/60 [2]; pulse one-twenty120.� The EMT speaking so urgently into the radio is wearing a His nametag.�I can't make out what it says, even though I'm close enough to clearly see the letters.� They just don't come together into words.� That can't be good.reads �Aiden Strauss.�

The other EMT, the�one working to stop the blood flowing from the wound in my belly,�[3] is older, I think.� B, but maybe it�s just the shaved head. I watch his every move as he inserts a needle for an IV, connects a bag, and thumps the line to make sure the clear liquid is flowing. My teeth chatter uncontrollably.

�This should help,� he says, his expression flat, serious. I think he's trying says it as much to assure himself as much that he�s doing his job well as to comfort me. It�s not working.� He's really not doing either.

Aiden again announces over the radio �Seventy over fifty,70/50.� the younger guy says.� I want to tell him that can�t be right; it�s too low, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. Tthe words refuse to form.

The bald one stands, then lurches as the ambulance makes a sharp left.; h� He�s too tall for this tiny box careening down the street. The ambulance makes a sharp left turn and he lurches forward. Righting himself, he pulls a zippered bag from the crowded shelves, tears it quickly opens it, [4]�and grabs something. He�s on autopilot, working from muscle memory. But this is my first time.

I expect him to pull out an ampule of something, anything to stop the hemorrhaging, but he�s ripping open packages of gauze sponges.� �tTo soak up the blood that won�t stop flowing, dripping on the floor, a gruesome marker of the crucial window of time that�s closing.[5]

���� Jesus! No!�I wish I could make the sign of the cross.� I�m not ready for this. I�ll never be ready.

�Tell me wWhat . . . you�re doing.� I�ve found my voice, but it�s so weak., I don�t recognize it as my own. I�m helpless, at the mercy of their medical knowledge and good judgment. [6]

The two of them exchange a look that makes my throat constrict and my silent tears turn into convulsive sobs.

Aiden�The young guy opens the Plexiglas partition and shouts,� to the driver. �ETA?� I had forgottenn�t even thought about the person behind the wheel, who� was just as responsible for our wellbeing. A woman�s voice comes across loud and clear,

�Less than ten.�� A woman's voice.

Aiden� Young guy places his hand on mine. �We�ll be there soon.�� Bald guy is still sopping up blood.

I feel faint. I take a desperate, shaky breath and try to distract myself by focusing on my surroundings. It smells like a hospital�antiseptic�a preview of what�s to come.

I mumble a fervent prayer that I make it won�t be robbed of this precious life before we get to St David�s. My fingers are icy cold, my breathing shallow. A black mist that I can't stop seeps into my brain.

and sSeconds before my eyes close, Aidenyoung guy�s voice cuts through the mist. �65/45Sixty-five over forty-five.�

�Notes:

Most of the changes I�ve made have been to control the pace so that it focuses readers more intently on your two key moments � the discovery that the narrator is bleeding out in an ambulance, and the moment he or she passes out.� So I�ve compressed the first paragraph a bit to get to the revelation more quickly, then tightened things up a bit through the middle, after the revelation is out, when you want to keep things moving forward.

I also wanted to adjust the way the narrator�s state of mind develops.� For most of the piece, you create an effective contrast between the focus on mundane details � the EMT's baldness, the smell of antisceptic -- and the seriousness of the situation.� But the sudden explosive prayer mid-scene seemed out of keeping with this contrast.� It might work if the panic kept increasing after the prayer, but the narrator seems to settle back into a less panicked state of mind, paying attention to the driver's gender.� Besides, I think you can make a greater impact if you keep your writing understated.� This is a case where less is more.

One final note: I took this piece because I had a chance to bring some unique personal experience to the editing.� Ten years ago next September, I had a heart attack that literally stopped my heart halfway across the front yard, while they were wheeling me to the ambulance.� The paramedics got me restarted twice on the way to the hospital, so I know what it feels like to be at that point where your brain isn�t getting quite enough oxygen.� That�s where the failure to read the nametag came from.

Specifics:

1. �1. You want to make the transition from the setup to the payoff suddenly, catching your readers by surprise.� Don't linger on the sign of the cross.
2. 2. And once you've made the reveal, get straight to what's happening in the ambulance -- the blood pressure reading is nicely dramatic.� Also, given that you later start a sentence with a BP reading, it seemed less complicated to write the numbers out from the beginning.
3. 3. Once you're past the reveal, you can give the blood more impact by tucking it into a subordinate clause.
4. 4. Right now, you want strong verbs rather than weak verbs propped up by adverbs.
5. 5. No need to embellish the blood.� It's shocking enough as it is.
6. 6. Given the narrator's inability to talk earlier, this seemed a bit too articulate.� Also, we can see that he or she is helpless.