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Recursion (Book): Difference between revisions
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! Original Text !! Rewrite!! Comment | ! Original Text !! Rewrite!! Comment | ||
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| The night watchman is standing by the bank of elevators, holding one open as Barry hurries toward him, his shoes echoing off the marble. || rowspan ="5"| The porter grunts and jabs a button. <br>Sutton loafer-slides the last five yards of marble and hits the back wall. <br>“Where’s the damsel at, Jerry?”<br>The porter growls, “It’s ''Mike'', dipshit. She’s on forty-one. Hang a right and keep walking.” <br>The bell pings. <br>The doors clam. <br>The elevator surges. <br>Sutton sniffs back a nose-bleed and prepares his A-game. || Flabby again. “Shoes echoing off the marble?” Please. | | The night watchman is standing by the bank of elevators, holding one open as Barry hurries toward him, his shoes echoing off the marble. || rowspan ="5"| The porter grunts and jabs a button. <br>Sutton loafer-slides the last five yards of marble and hits the back wall. <br>“Where’s the damsel at, Jerry?”<br>The porter growls, “It’s ''Mike'', dipshit. She’s on forty-one. Hang a right and keep walking.” <br>The bell pings. <br>The doors clam. <br>The elevator surges. <br>Sutton sniffs back a nose-bleed and prepares his A-game. || Flabby again. “Shoes echoing off the marble?” Please. | ||
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| “What floor?” Barry asks as he steps into the elevator car. || rowspan="4"| What matters here is a suicidal lady dangling off a parapet the 41st floor. Other than conveying the idea that he’s in a hurry to get to her, there’s no real need for any of Barry’s arrival, exit from car, negotiation of revolving doors, conversation with the doorman, journey up the elevator or across the carpeted expanse of the Forty-first floor. These are extraneous paragraphs: they give the reader no important information and tell us nothing about the characters nor their states of mind. And much of it is just stupid. How does an elevator “belie the age of a building”? Who honestly gives a shit that Barry’s ears pop | | “What floor?” Barry asks as he steps into the elevator car. || rowspan="4"| What matters here is a suicidal lady dangling off a parapet the 41st floor. Other than conveying the idea that he’s in a hurry to get to her, there’s no real need for any of Barry’s arrival, exit from car, negotiation of revolving doors, conversation with the doorman, journey up the elevator or across the carpeted expanse of the Forty-first floor. These are extraneous paragraphs: they give the reader no important information and tell us nothing about the characters nor their states of mind. And much of it is just stupid. How does an elevator “belie the age of a building”? Who honestly gives a shit that Barry’s ears pop — at least make it a nose bleed! — or there’s a law firm’s office here, or that there is carpet on the floor? | ||
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| “Forty-one. When you get up there, take a right and go all the way down the hall.” | | “Forty-one. When you get up there, take a right and go all the way down the hall.” | ||
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| The elevator races upward, belying the age of the building around it, and Barry’s ears pop after a few seconds. When the doors finally part, he moves past a sign for a law firm. There’s a light on here and there, but the floor stands mostly dark. He runs along the carpet, passing silent offices, a conference room, a break room, a library. The hallway finally opens into a reception area that’s paired with the largest office. | | The elevator races upward, belying the age of the building around it, and Barry’s ears pop after a few seconds. When the doors finally part, he moves past a sign for a law firm. There’s a light on here and there, but the floor stands mostly dark. He runs along the carpet, passing silent offices, a conference room, a break room, a library. The hallway finally opens into a reception area that’s paired with the largest office. | ||
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| In the dim light, the details are all in shades of gray. A sprawling mahogany desk buried under files and paperwork. A circular table covered in notepads and mugs of cold, bitter-smelling coffee. A wet bar stocked exclusively with bottles of Macallan Rare. A glowing aquarium that hums on the far side of the room and contains a small shark and several tropical fish.|| | | In the dim light, the details are all in shades of gray. A sprawling mahogany desk buried under files and paperwork. A circular table covered in notepads and mugs of cold, bitter-smelling coffee. A wet bar stocked exclusively with bottles of Macallan Rare. A glowing aquarium that hums on the far side of the room and contains a small shark and several tropical fish.|| Forty-one is dark. Deserted. Sutton hangs right and makes for the single light source at the end of the hall. It opens onto a war-room: corner office, cluttered with the detritus of all-night deal-making: papers, markups, files, cold coffee. ''Everything but people''. Sheer curtains billow, and then Sutton clocks it: ''the balcony door is open''. He pads over. || “The details are all in shades of grey” is pretty dreary writing. Does cold coffee smell of anything, let alone bitterness? A small ''shark'' in a fish tank? Seriously? What relevance is the whisky? To point out wealth? Better to lead Barry out towards the deck. | ||
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| As Barry approaches the French doors, he silences his phone and removes his shoes. Taking the handle, he eases the door open and slips out onto the terrace.|| Barry sheds the loafers and slips out onto the terrace.|| What is the obsession with shoes? Does it matter that his phone is on silent? Do we need to know about the handle? No. | | As Barry approaches the French doors, he silences his phone and removes his shoes. Taking the handle, he eases the door open and slips out onto the terrace.|| Barry sheds the loafers and slips out onto the terrace.|| What is the obsession with shoes? Does it matter that his phone is on silent? Do we need to know about the handle? No. | ||
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| rowspan= 2 |The woman sits fifteen feet away beside an eroding gargoyle, her back to Barry, her legs dangling over the edge. He inches closer, the wet flagstones soaking through his socks. If he can get close enough without detection, he’ll drag her off the edge before she knows what— || She sits stride a broken gargoyle, her legs dangling over the city. She heaves deep, shaking sobs. || rowspan="2"| “She” works better than “a woman”, because it makes you wonder ''who''. If her legs are over the edge, she must have her back to Barry. Again, the fixation with footwear. The reader knows what’s going on. Give us credit for not spooning it out. What she does and what he does should be different paragraphs. Break it out. Punctuate. | | rowspan= 2 |The woman sits fifteen feet away beside an eroding gargoyle, her back to Barry, her legs dangling over the edge. He inches closer, the wet flagstones soaking through his socks. If he can get close enough without detection, he’ll drag her off the edge before she knows what— || She sits stride a broken gargoyle, her legs dangling over the city. She heaves deep, shaking sobs. || rowspan="2"| “She” works better than “a woman”, because it makes you wonder ''who''. If her legs are over the edge, she must have her back to Barry. Again, the fixation with footwear. The reader knows what’s going on. Give us credit for not spooning it out. What she does and what he does should be different paragraphs. Break it out. Punctuate. | ||
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| He | | He moves toward her. She sobs. He steals another inch. She sobs. If he can just get close enough — | ||
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| “I smell your cologne,” she says without looking back. || “I can smell your cologne,” she says. She does not look back.|| Just tighten up a bit. | | “I smell your cologne,” she says without looking back. || “I can smell your cologne,” she says, and sniffs. She does not look back.|| Just tighten up a bit. | ||
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| He stops.|| Barry freezes. || Again, use the best word. There is drama here. It is tense. He’s creeping. “Freeze” conveys the drama. | | He stops.|| Barry freezes. <br> She wracks another sob.|| Again, use the best word. There is drama here. It is tense. He’s creeping. “Freeze” conveys the drama. | ||
|} | |} | ||