Have you ever read a story where you just can’t see what’s going on?

A technique that helps some authors is to think of the story as a play that’s going on right in front of them. That way, instead of laboriously creating the action and dialogue, we’re just sitting there, watching what’s happening and reporting it. Doing this helps us to let the characters act as THEY would. It lessens the “I’d never do that / I’m embarrassed someone might think I did that” reaction. And it keeps the action and the dialogue more logical and believable.

(Have you ever read a scene where the characters got themselves into a tangled position that’s simply physically impossible? Or where the hero has three hands, because the author lost count of the actions?)

It’s worth taking a stab at this visualization technique. Sit back, take a deep breath, close your eyes, imagine your characters — and then write down what they say and do.

As you watch and report, it sometimes helps to pretend that there’s a sight-impaired friend sitting next to you in the front row of that darkened theater. That friend can hear the words, but she can’t see who’s there if they’re not talking. If they’re talking quickly or softly, she may not be able to tell who’s speaking. And she can’t see what’s happening. So you — as the good friend sitting next to her and interpreting for her — have to identify the speaker, tell her what expression is on his face, tell her what he’s doing while he’s talking (is he shaking his fist? petting the cat? big difference there) so she will know.

The reader is like that sight-impaired friend. YOU know where everyone is and what they’re doing, because you can picture them in your own head. But your reader can’t see that unless you tell her. We have to tell the reader who’s present, and who’s speaking, and whether they look happy or angry or sad, and what they’re doing while they talk.

Sometimes it’s tough to judge whether we’ve actually done that, because when we reread what we’ve written, we not only see the words on the page but we hear the voices, and we understand the feelings (because we’ve created that character). We know how they sound and what they look like. But the reader can only know what’s on the page.

It’s up to you to put it there — so the reader can see and hear what you’ve imagined.

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What do you think? Share your thoughts, your experience, your examples, your questions. Is there a topic you’d like to see addressed?

The Snarky Editor’s Softer Side is represented by author / editor / teacher / writing coach Leigh Michaels, commenting on random topics of interest to writers and readers. Leigh is the award-winning author of more than 100 books. (The Snarky Editor herself mainly comes out to play when she discovers egregious and often hilarious errors in published books.)

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor #writingtips

I beseige you….

Beseige means to surround with armed forces, like a city that’s trying to withstand an attack by an army determined to wait out the residents. The word this author was looking for is beseech, which means to plead with or to implore. The Snarky Editor beseeches you to remember the difference.

Over the years, Kennedy had culled a unique friendship with Mrs. Jameson.

Unless Kennedy dropped her friend, she didn’t cull her — she cultivated her. Cultivating a friendship means nurturing it, as one would nurture a house plant by adding water and light and fertilizer to make it grow bigger. Culling the same house plant would mean sending it to the compost heap.

Classic defection technique — reply to a question with another question.

No, a classic defection technique would be to ask for political asylum. The term for redirecting a conversation to a more palatable topic is deflection — meaning to deviate from the established path.

Kat looked at his furled brow and worried eyes.

Flags are furled when they’re taken down — wrapped around the pole to be safely put away. Brows are furrowed to indicate worry or tension.

Ripley fixed a particular look on her face. One she homed in college…

Homed and honed are genuinely confusing almost-homonyms. Homed means targeted, like aiming at a particular goal or destination. Honed means sharpened or smoothed out, like putting a new edge on a knife blade, or made more effective. In this case, the look Ripley displays is one she had practiced to make it more effective. One she’d honed in college.

Fluffy, white flakes swirl in front of the window, pommeling the frosted glass…

A pommel is the knob on the hilt of a sword or saber, or the knob at the front of a saddle. It’s a noun, not a verb, so a pommel just sits there without doing anything. Even if a swordsman rammed the hilt of his blade into a window, he would be pummeling the window — he’d be pounding against the glass just as these snowflakes do.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

For example, personal opinion. Opinions are always personal (unless they’re the ones issued by the Supreme Court, perhaps). And free gifts — because if the gift comes with cost or strings, it’s not a gift. And so on.

… old antiques…

Technically, for something to be antique it has to be more than 100 years old. If an item is newer than that, it might be collectible or simply interesting, but it’s not antique. So it’s not necessary to specify that an antique has been around for a while.

Denver laughed out loud as he led the way…

A laugh is by definition a sound. So while one can laugh loudly or softly, every laugh produces sound and therefore is “out loud.” Denver laughed as he led the way…

… veiled hats perched at the crown of their heads.

Because wearing a hat on one’s foot would be SO uncomfortable.

I reached out my hand…

If she’d reached out with her nose, that would be worth being specific.

… what they planned to do the rest of this summer before school started back in the fall.

There are multiple ways to improve this genuinely awkward sentence:

what they planned to do the rest of the summer

what they planned to do before school started

what they planned to do before fall

We just don’t need all of those options.

He stood to his feet.

If he’d stood to his ribs, everyone would pay attention. But feet? Everybody does that.

“Gretchen, can you get Lily a glass of water or something to drink, please?”

We can assume that the glass of water is intended to drink, because throwing it in Llly’s face is more likely to rile her up than calm her down. Adding the option just dilutes the impact of the sentence. “Gretchen, can you get Lily a glass of water?” is stronger and makes the point quite well. So does “Gretchen, can you get Lily something to drink?” — and then we’re covered if Gretchen comes back with brandy instead.

… acquiesced to his request by nodding my head.

To acquiesce is to agree. Nodding also indicates agreement. And nodding is a movement of the head — we can’t nod our elbows, for instance — so this sentence is doubly redundant.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

A student recently commented that getting advice about how to revise her writing made her feel confused and overwhelmed, and she asked for (in a manner of speaking) advice about how to handle advice. It’s a really crucial question: How can writers sort through feedback so we can use it to best advantage?

There are a couple of times when feedback is most valuable. The first is early in the writing process, when the most useful feedback consists of brainstorming ideas, sorting out characters and plot direction, and anticipating potential trouble spots so you can avoid them as you write the story.

The second time is after there’s a complete or nearly complete first draft, when the reader can look at the entire story and help figure out how to make it better. (And it can always be made better.)

In between, there’s a big wide sea of time and effort when feedback may just confuse things and lead to so much discouragement that the book never gets finished.

So here are a few things that I suggest:

When you look at feedback, think about the meanings underneath what your reader is saying. If your reader says, “You should kill your main character!”, they might really be saying that they don’t understand or sympathize with how he’s acting, and a more useful action might be a better explanation of his motives or a more balanced view so we see more than just a nasty side of him. Keep in mind that sometimes what the reader is saying is an indicator rather than actual advice.

In the moment, it’s easy to be overwhelmed by comments. Rather than act immediately on the feedback, print it out or otherwise save it to look back at later — when you have more distance, and when more of the book is written.

When you’re ready to take in the comments, consider each one individually. Does it resonate with you? Do you find yourself thinking, “Ah, yes, I knew something was wrong there.” Or do you find yourself thinking, “Did this person even read the book I’m writing?”

(That second person may really be giving you wonderful feedback anyway. We’re all resistant to being told our work isn’t great just as it stands. But if the feedback doesn’t resonate with you, set it aside for now. Come back to it later and look again.)

Not all feedback is helpful, and not all feedback applies to a particular story. Sometimes a reader gets caught up in thinking about the story she’d prefer to read, rather than the one the author is working on. Comments that try to make the book into a different story entirely are not uncommon. File them away and move on.

The author’s responsibility is to listen respectfully to all feedback, to give thoughtful and serious consideration to all comments, and thento keep the parts that make sense, act on them, and ignore the rest.

If you’re opting to ignore a piece of feedback, however, think about why. Why would making this change actually hurt the story and the book? If you can enunciate that, you’ve come a long way toward learning to apply advice and sort out what’s helpful and what’s not. If you can’t give a reason, then perhaps your resistance to the feedback is misplaced. Not wanting to do the necessary work isn’t a reason to pass over a comment.

When you take a class, you might think about using a new idea, or a story that’s not yet dear to your heart, so the feedback you receive is more likely to be helpful. Most of the time, an author’s first idea doesn’t end up being a book. Developing and writing it is still a valuable learning experience, because when you start to work on a new story, you’ll be able to spot and avoid the issues which lurked in the first one, making the next experience smoother and more productive.

It took six complete manuscripts for me to figure out what I was doing — how to tell a complete story, how to create enough conflict to keep a story going rather than trickling off halfway, how to decide on an ending early so I could write toward it rather than coming up to the last chapter with no idea of who had committed the murder (and yes, that really happened).

But I didn’t have the benefit of classes or early feedback. I hope things will go faster than that for you. Keep in mind, however, that nothing is wasted. Everything we write is useful practice in developing our style, our voice, and our skill — and it’s all important in helping us learn to tell OUR stories, in OUR way.

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What do you think? Share your thoughts, your experience, your examples, your questions. Is there a topic you’d like to see addressed?

The Snarky Editor’s Softer Side is represented by author / editor / teacher / writing coach Leigh Michaels, commenting on random topics of interest to writers and readers. Leigh is the award-winning author of more than 100 books. (The Snarky Editor herself mainly comes out to play when she discovers egregious and often hilarious errors in published books.)

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor #writingtips

… to weave quilts … “Here, here…”

The bits of bright fabric that make up a quilt are sewed (or pieced) together, and the resulting patchwork is quilted by sewing it to a backing. Nowhere in that craft is the quilter doing any weaving.

And the chat is “Hear, hear” — meaning, “What was just said is important and valuable enough to be said again, and we should listen.”

…the old croons… weave a love quilt for.

This author doubled down on the quilting, making it clear that it wasn’t a casual error but a misunderstanding of what quilting actually involves.

And the ones who are doing the matchmaking? They might be crooning over their success, or crooning love spells, but the author is calling them old crones — that is, withered old women.

Jonathan became a father and widow in the same afternoon. Absolved in his grief…

Typically, a woman whose husband dies is a widow, while a man whose wife dies is a widower. And poor Jon is absorbed in his grief — that is, wallowing in it. If he was absolved of it, he’d be excused or forgiven or set free from mourning his wife — almost the opposite of what this wounded fellow is suffering.

No cats don’t die, ever…

The double negative here means that all cats DO die, which would be an odd twist for a happy ending.

“Do we doubt the Toll brothers were not involved in murdering Richie?”

It takes quite a little untangling to figure out that what the character meant to say is that he’s pretty sure the Toll brothers murdered Richie. This double negative is twisted enough to give the Snarky Editor a headache.

… eyeing the holstered weapon hanging below Carter’s belt.

The Snarky Editor is the first to admit that she’s always looking for double entendres — instances where the author means one thing but unintentionally says something that sounds a bit naughty. But it would have been so easy for this author to avoid the spicy implication by rephrasing. “Hannah thought, eyeing the pistol holstered on Carter’s belt.”

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

When it comes to expressions that we use almost without thinking, there are plenty of examples of how authors have heard something wrong, or assumed it means one thing when it really refers to something else entirely.

It sucked to have to sit back and wait for the other foot to drop.

The expression, of course, is “wait for the other shoe to drop” — because in the vast majority of cases, a sneaker thumping to the floor is followed by a second bang that’s just as loud. Waiting for that second bang, knowing that it’s coming but unsure just when to brace for impact, can be annoying. But throwing feet around? Untidy.

… offensive all of the sudden.

Let’s stop and think. Does “all of the sudden” even make sense? Granted, the correct use — all of a sudden — sounds pretty odd, too. Maybe the answer is to simply say, “Mumfurd suddenly seemed to find my invasion of his personal space offensive.”

I really enjoed the aroma of ode de Mark.

Even if Mark’s cologne is such a wonderful blend that it makes his girl feel poetic, ode is still the wrong word here. Colognes and perfumes are liquids and are often referred to by the French word for water, which is eau — pronounced oh. So Mark’s special scent could be called eau de Mark.

which totally got my shackles up.

Unless this character is a kidnap victim, bound with handcuffs and leg irons, she’s not dealing with shackles. The author meant hackles — which are actually the neck feathers of a bird or the hairs that raise up on a dog’s neck when he’s agitated. But the expression get my hackles up has come to mean feeling ire or strong annoyance — and perhaps bristling just as a dog does.

It must of happened quickly.

Must of, could of, and their cousins are the result of lazy speech and careless listening — hearing of rather than have. It must have happened quickly. He could have done that instead.

Port Isabel had a down-in-the-heels vibe about it.

The expression is down at the heels — meaning having a poor or shabby appearance. It originally referred to shoes that had been used too long, to the point where the heels were worn off.

British Humor: Very tongue and cheek.

The expression is tongue in cheek. It means something that’s said with irony or repressed humor, rather than by making an obvious joke. It probably originated because sticking the tip of one’s tongue against the inside of a cheek helps stave off laughter.

The Snarky Editor admits she’s a nut when it comes to figuring out how an expression originated and what it refers to, in addition to what it’s come to mean with the passage of time. Thank you for humoring her!

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

Waive means to relinquish or give up. When we tell a cop that we don’t need a lawyer, we waive our right to legal counsel. When we say, “There’s no charge for that service,” we waive our fee. When a previous requirement is lifted, it’s waived.

Not waved.

Though The Snarky Editor admits to spending a few fun minutes wondering how people might actually swing around concepts like labor costs or legal rights. Maybe if they wrote “I’m not charging a fee” on a picket sign, they could wave, as well as waive?

I’ll even wave labor.

Nope — he will waive the charge for his labor.

Do you wave your rights to an attorney?

He’s giving up his rights, so he’s waiving them.

… the requirement of bieng on site getting waved.

Not the clearest of sentences, but the meaning is that previously someone working at that location also had to live there, and now they are free to live elsewhere because the requirement was waived.

… can you wave my fees this month?

Asking for a reduced charge means the fee would be waived.

No, I’ll wave my portion.”

And the customer will get a break when part of the charge is waived.

My voice waivers, heavy with fear and panic.

And just for a change of pace… Someone can waive their right to speak up, but when a voice quivers or fluctuates, it wavers — it rises and falls like an ocean wave.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

When you need to tell your reader about something which happened in the character’s past, it’s generally a good idea to fill in that information through dialogue.

Dialogue is more active and more involving than letting a character think about about their history. And it’s almost always better to use dialogue rather than simply telling the reader in narrative about what happened to bring the character to this moment. Dialogue is more interesting for the reader, and it draws the reader into the story.

Sharing information in dialogue, rather than simply telling it, also has other benefits for the writer. When the other characters find out the facts at the same time the reader does, that helps you build suspense — and it cuts down on repetition.

The problem is that when the people involved in a conversation already know the facts, that dialogue can too easily become an information dump, rather than sounding like real people talking.

We often refer to that as an “As you know, Bob” conversation – because too often it includes lines that admit the writer is really talking to the reader, not to the other characters. Things like, “As you know, Bob….” and then they go on to talk about how they met, or what they did together last Tuesday.

But if Bob already knows all this, why is the other person in this conversation telling him again?

For instance: “Your girlfriend died five years ago and you should move on.” Even if Bob’s been in an amnesia ward, that’s a stupid — and cruel — thing for a friend to say to him.

(However, the friend might say, in frustration, “Bob, I know you loved the woman, but she’s been dead for five years! It’s time to move on!” Same information, totally different approach — and an entirely different reaction from the reader.)

Here’s another — less obvious — example of an “As you know, Bob” conversation, where the author is making an attempt to bring the reader up to speed:

“I wish it hadn’t taken Grandfather having a heart attack to get you home.”

“I’m just glad that I decided it was finally time to opt out. I think I might have been waiting for a good reason to move on,” Greg answered. “Ever since I was injured, I spent far too much time behind a desk and training recruits. I could have continued and enjoyed it, but it was time to come home. I’ve been missing it here for a while now.”

“How were you able to get a job in [hometown] so easily?”

Greg dropped one of his bags so he could pat her on the back. “I wouldn’t exactly say it was easy,” he murmured. “Besides the fact that I finished earning my degree during my down time, I’ve been teaching classes off and on through my ten-year military career, so I’m comfortable in a classroom and, after all, history is my specialty.”

The problem is, Greg’s sister already knows much of that, so it feels awkward when he gives her such specific details about what he’s been doing for the last few years. The result is that Greg doesn’t come across like a real person, and the conversation doesn’t feel convincing. (He also doesn’t sound like a guy who’s spent the last ten years in military service, but that’s another issue entirely.)

Telling the reader about past events through dialogue takes a very light touch. Besides the “As you know, Bob,” issue, there’s a tendency to include far too much detail about things that aren’t important in the overall story. Do we really need to know everything that happened on the day in first grade when the heroine met her best friend?

Here’s an example of dialogue where an author uses a very light touch to skip across a number of incidents from the shared past of these characters – two mystery writers who have been at odds for several years. There’s almost no attribution or narration to interrupt the conversation, and only one of these events is ever brought up again in the entire book.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious! Just like I was serious at the American Library Association when I told you I didn’t want your sticker!”

“How was I supposed to know that adhesive allergies are a real thing?”

“And I was serious at the Edgars when I told you–”

“Hey, the fire marshal said that could have happened to anyone.”

“And at ThrillerCon? What about what happened at ThrillerCon?”

“One, I think shorter hair looks great on you, and two–”

“I can never go back to Houston.”

He had the nerve to roll his eyes. “Of course you can go to Houston. Murder by the Book would have you. Do you want me to call Johnny? I could call Johnny.”

She couldn’t even look at him. “And Tucson?” ....

“I thought we weren’t suppose to talk about Tucson.”

[From The Most Wonderful Crime of the Year by Ally Carter]

Part of what makes this selection work well is that that each of the four exchanges is a little different. The first time, he answers a question with another question; the second time he makes an excuse; the third time he turns his answer into a compliment to her; the fourth time he deflects and offers to help. If all the answers were the same style, the passage wouldn't have moved so quickly or been as believable.

Sharing information with your reader— especially when your characters have a shared past — takes a little thought and a creative approach. But it’s well worth the effort. (Though I still want to know why she can’t go back to Houston.)

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What do you think? Share your thoughts, your experience, your examples, your questions. Is there a topic you’d like to see addressed?

The Snarky Editor’s Softer Side is represented by author / editor / teacher / writing coach Leigh Michaels, commenting on random topics of interest to writers and readers. Leigh is the award-winning author of more than 100 books. (The Snarky Editor herself mainly comes out to play when she discovers egregious and often hilarious errors in published books.)

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor #writingtips

Here’s what she found when she looked at these examples:

A chance to diffuse the situation…

When we’re dealing with an explosive situation, we’re trying to defuse it — as though it were a bomb.

My only request is that you be discrete… before meeting with Earl.

Discrete means separate, individual. The author means discreet, which means tactful — not causing embarrassment or gossip. Also, there’s a clarity issue about when the meeting is to be held. Probably she wants the listener to review the files before the listener has a meeting with Earl, but it could be more clearly stated: “You can use my office to review these files I retrieved from Arthur’s office, before you meet with Earl.”

She’s eight months pregnant, so not exactly hard to miss.

Did you have to look at this one twice? The Snarky Editor did. If she’s so very pregnant, she’d be hard to miss — that is, hard to overlook — rather than NOT hard to miss. Or, if the author wants the reference to keep a negative tone, she might be not hard to spot or not hard to see.

He smiled as Elisabeth rode up next to him and reigned in her mount.

Horses have reins. When we pull on them, we rein in the mount.

The brilliant, confident author who’s dark, twisting psychological thrillers…

When pronouns have apostrophes, it’s because they’re (they are) a contraction of two words. Who’s means who is. Always. The author meant The brilliant, confident author whose dark, twisting thrillers…

I thank you for your attention, for putting up with we lawyers….

The easy test for whether to use we or us is to drop the other word associated with that pronoun. Since the author wouldn’t say Thank you for putting up with we, the proper phrasing is, Thank you for putting up with us lawyers.

Burial details were already hard at their grizzly work.

Well, not unless they were burying big brown grizzly bears. Since we’re talking about unpleasant, bloody, smelly tasks instead, burial details were already hard at their grisly work. (The Snarky Editor admits that burying a grizzly would indeed be a grisly job.)

… studying the details that Hope clearly had poured over multiple times.

She may be pouring lava, eventually, but when Hope closely studied the details of her project, she pored over them.

This is a bigger challenge, not just a matter of a misused word or phrase. The Snarky Editor wants to know how Duke can see all that at the same time. Her ass AND her breasts? As well as her hair hanging down her back? Clearly, Duke is a very gifted guy to see all sides of her at once, and from quite a distance. Perhaps he’s got Superman’s extra-special vision.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

Ready, set, SNARK! Post your answers in the comments, and The Snarky Editor will share her comments next week.)

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

Hart wanted to answer but words alluded him.

Alluded means to refer to. Eluded means to avoid or escape.

She was sneaky and brass, but she’d never been a liar.

The author might have meant she was brassy — sassy with a side of bad taste. But it’s more likely she meant brash — unhibited, or acting without thinking ahead.

I knew he would demure about such praise…

Oh, boy. Demure means sober or modest, which Mr. Killough may be. But it’s not a verb. The author meant he would demur — meaning he’d hesitate or object to being praised.

Sinclair deigned to reply.

To deign is to condescend, to stoop — but to act. If he’d deigned to reply, he would have … ah… replied, rather than just standing there gazing placidly. The author may have meant that he declined to reply, just waited silently for a response.

… cats circled my legs with plaintiff meows…

Not unless they were standing in a courtroom, where the plaintiff is the one bringing the action. The cats were being plaintive, expressing their suffering and woe.

… walking in along with two, presumably, perspective buyers.

Perspective has multiple meanings, most of which relate in one way or another to vision. But in this case the author was looking for prospective — people who might be interested in buying the property.

Guilt bit at her conscious…

When we’re conscious, we’re awake and aware. But the part of us that feels guilt and whispers that we’ve done wrong is the conscience.

Grandma Judith couldn’t have told his father the providence of the ring.

When we’re talking about proving the origins or authenticity of a piece of art, jewelry, or antique, it’s the provenance that matters — the chain of evidence and ownership which proves the age, value, and legal ownership of an item.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

And probably the author didn’t mean what the sentence actually says.

We devoured the freshly made feast along with the captain.

Did the captain taste as good as the biscuits and gravy? And did Carmelite fry him up along with the bacon and eggs, or cook him in a separate skillet?

We, along with the captain, devoured the freshly made feast.

I saw that Noah was walking Sienna to a car through the front windows.

Why did they walk through the windows, rather than using the door?

I saw through the front windows that Noah was walking Sienna to a car.

… a textbook he had to read before classes began lying on his chest.

The Snarky Editor hopes the coursework will be light, since we wouldn’t want to crush his chest under the classes.

The easiest alternative phrasing is just as awkward, but a little sentence reconstruction helps. … a textbook lying on his chest, one he had to read before classes began.

I… pulled out jeans and a sweater from my duffel bag that I slipped into.

Taking out the jeans and sweater would leave a little room, but was it enough to fit an entire person inside the duffel bag?

In this case, simpler is both clearer and better. I slipped into jeans and a sweater from my duffel bag.

My phone pings with a text from my blazer pocket…

Wow. AI really is taking over the world if blazer pockets can now text!

From my blazer pocket, my phone pings with a text…

Keith had a video on Dr. Lyons paying him hush money on a USB stick.

The Snarky Editor has to ask, how did this meeting happen on a USB stick? Are Keith and Dr. Lyons very tiny people? Though she supposes it’s possible the payoff was in the form of bitcoin.

Keith had a video on a USB stick of Dr. Lyons paying him hush money.

Think about the order of your words — they’re important. There’s a huge difference between He asked her again to marry him and He asked her to marry him again.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

And then I very tentatively stuck a toe into writing a short story. An ultra-short story — a few thousand words that I crafted and recrafted and pared down, until in its final form, it’s less than a thousand words.

It felt good to only need to please myself.

So I wrote another short story, this one a little longer but easier to craft. And then a third — with a historical setting this time, and a little longer yet. And that was really fun.

Then my writing partner (who was publishing erotic romance at the time) said, “Leigh, after all those sweet novels, you can’t write an erotic love scene to save your life.”

And I said, “Wanna bet?”

So I started writing what I thought was an erotic short story, only it kept getting longer and became a novella.

I’d always been a daytime writer, following a pattern of regular office hours — because with a contract to produce three or four books a year, I couldn’t manage the work any other way than treating it as a regular 9 to 5 job.

But suddenly I was staying up till 3 a.m. because I just couldn’t stop thinking about what these characters were doing, and why, and what might happen next.

And after all that time, and all those published words, suddenly writing was fun again.

My writing partner kept saying my sassy, sophisticated (though sadly, not really erotic) short story should be a novel. I kept saying that I’d told the story and there wasn’t any more. And she said, “Then there are more novellas!”

That was how The Mistress’ House got off the ground. (It’s three connected novellas that all happen in the same London townhouse in 1815. Oh, the tales I could tell about how those other two stories came into being...)

All of which is just to say that if I hadn’t found my way back to the roots of simply writing for enjoyment, I might never have gotten past the discouragement I felt at the ending of a career path that I’d expected would go on forever. And I might never have found my way to a different career path that’s been rewarding in totally different ways.

And perhaps that’s true for you all as well. Writing is a tough road, and it’s a tougher way to make a living. The thing that makes all the work pay off is the sheer joy and fun of creating people and situations and stories that make us feel good. If we lose that — if we let it get buried under the “need to” and “have to” and “must” that we hear so much — then writing can become just another task, another project, another checklist... just another job.

I wish for you all the joy of creativity — and the success, as well.

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What do you think? Share your thoughts, your experience, your examples, your questions. Is there a topic you’d like to see addressed?

The Snarky Editor’s Softer Side is represented by author / editor / teacher / writing coach Leigh Michaels, commenting on random topics of interest to writers and readers. Leigh is the award-winning author of more than 100 books. (The Snarky Editor herself mainly comes out to play when she discovers egregious and often hilarious errors in published books.)

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor #writingtips

The things that bring cars to a halt? Those are brakes, not breaks. When a would-be murderer tampers with a car, he often cuts the brake lines. The devices on the wheels are brakes; the extra security device is an emergency brake.

Smashing something into pieces? That’s breaking it. Fixing it means matching up the breaks and gluing the sections together.

Are you feeling slammed yet?

And that’s the breaks, people. Straight from The Snarky Editor.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

Hoard is a collection — usually a big collection, and usually one that’s gathered and kept rather than distributed and used. A dragon’s treasure of gold and jewels, buried under a mountain, is a hoard.

Horde is a big number. A whole lot of people gathered in a stadium is a horde.

And if an entire tribe of dragons gathered their treasures into one spot, that would be a horde of hoards.

… every time I’m faced with a hoard of giggling teenage girls…

Since the speaker is talking about a large number of girls, it’s a horde. Unless he’s locked them all in his basement, intending to keep them there forever.

You know, as his horde?

Gold wrapped candies placed around a toy dragon to represent his treasure would be a hoard.

… before your hoard of pseudo-grandparents chase me out of town….

Erin seems to have a lot of people looking after her — she has a horde of folks minding her romantic business

Henry was like a horde of buried treasure being teased up one coin at a time…

Buried treasure equals hoard.

… she seemed oblivious to the chanting of the hoard of street Arabs…

And because it’s a large number, that would be the horde of kids.

… infernal pied piper, chased by a hoard of white rats?

A big group of rats, like the ones which followed the Pied Piper out of Hamelin, would be a horde. (The Snarky Editor cannot conceive of anyone wanting to hoard white rats. But then she’s not a laboratory researcher.)

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

A peek is a quick, often furtive look, or something that we catch only a glimpse of.

A pique is a snit or a fit of resentment. Or it can be a feeling of curiosity, a reaction to a hint.

… but peak under its skirts and there was a seedy underbelly…

Since we’re taking a quick look, it’s a peek under Wickerton Hollow’s skirts.

Tattoos peaked out of his collar…

Since we’re not seeing an entire tattoo, only getting a glimpse, the tattoos peeked from under the collar.

The sun was up, peaking through the drawn curtains.

It’s not a full view, only a sliver — so therefore the sun is peeking.

A thin line of light peaked between the hotel curtains…

Nope. The light peeked.

Normally, Aunt Maxi’s actions didn’t peek my interest….

Aunt Maxi’s actions usually cause curiosity — so her actions pique the narrator’s interest. Or in this case, not.

And her curiosity was peaked.

It’s true that curiosity can rise to the level of mountaintops — but it’s still piqued, not peaked.

Interesting, however, that The Snarky Editor hasn’t yet run across a mountain peek… though she does enjoy peeking at mountaintops.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

At any rate, it’s time to revisit the issue.

His body had climbed out of bed and gone to her.

Wow. Did the zombie apocalypse happen while The Snarky Editor wasn’t looking, to let this body act independently?

The face Katie was pleased to see walking in her direction….

The last time the Snarky Editor checked, faces don’t have feet, so they can’t walk.

…my eyes inhaled him…

Perhaps this author confused his eyes with his nose?

… expecting to see Liam’s familiar grin walk out…

Oh, the pain, when grins walk around without even putting on shoes and socks.

I spotted the back of a brown uniform walking away…

In this case, clothing is wandering around without — apparently — even adorning a body.

… a pair of polished Hessians stepped out…

Gentlemen in the Regency era really did feel their boots were special, but no matter what the time period, footwear doesn’t generally march around without feet inside.

The other thing The Snarky Editor noted about these examples is that they’d be more direct — as well as better — if the author hadn’t tried so hard to be fancy.

He climbed out of bed. Katie saw Randall walking toward her. She expected to see Liam’s familiar grin and blue eyes.

And so on.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

Bear means to hold up under, to carry, to endure. We bear a burden, bear a cross. When we move a big box, we bear it to the new location.

Bare means uncovered, or naked, or exposed, or unadorned. We bare our teeth, we bare (expose) a villain, we bare our bodies to sunbathe.

And the bear/bare confusion is only the beginning when it comes to authors having issues with bears.

I bear my teeth…

Well, we’re always carrying our molars around with us, so in that sense we bear them. But when we grimace, we bare our incisors.

with a teeth-bearing grin…

And again with the teeth… it’s a teeth-baring grin.

…. stripping away everything and bearing my soul…

Nope. He’s revealing or exposing his innermost feelings, so he’s baring his soul.

Grizzly murders….

Well, unless they were committed by bears, the murders would have been grisly, not grizzly. A grizzly is a very large, powerful, and typically brownish-yellow bear, also known — for good reason — as ursa horribilis. Grisly, on the other hand, means horrible, ghastly, or gruesome. In the case of murder, it usually means a particularly bloody or disturbing crime scene.

He stared down at the grizzly assortment of items.

Do all those items have something to do with bears? If not, the author meant grisly.

And just for some variety…

… reminded him of the bear-skinned rug in his father’s hunting cabin.

It’s true that a hunter skinned a bear in order to decorate the cabin, but the result is a bearskin rug. This author conflated the two terms to come up with something new and inaccurate.

And that’s it for 2025, dear readers. The Snarky Editor wishes you a happy, smooth, and grammatical 2026!

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

A string quartet began to play Cannon in D.

Cannon is a very big gun. Canon has a great many meanings, from a specific type of church leader, to a group of fundamental rules or laws, to the authorized body of work of an author. Or, in music, a canon is a technique where a melody or musical line is imitated and repeated by subsequent voices or instruments, often with variations. Exactly as it is in the best example of all, Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major.

(The cannons are part of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture.)

“We’ll pretend we’re taking a turn about the room like Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennett.”

An understandable mistake — but anyone who’s truly a fan of Pride and Prejudice should have noted that Elizabeth’s family name is Bennet.

“I think having Stephen King’s Pet Cemetery in an animal hospital is bad luck.”

A casual lookup would have told this author that the book is titled Pet Sematary. But at least they spelled Stephen’s name right. And it IS a funny line.

“Out, out damn spot,” I whisper under my breath.

The author could have gotten by with this one if the character wasn’t presented as an experienced actress who has played Lady Macbeth, brags about how well she knows the lines — and therefore damned well ought to know that the line Shakespeare actually wrote is, “Yet here’s a spot. Out, damned spot! Out, I say!”

Quoting the Bard without looking up the references is a dangerous pastime. So many of Shakespeare’s lines have been misused and corrupted since he wrote them that now the wrong version is often seen as right. The Snarky Editor could go on (and on, and on — just ask her friends)… but she won’t.

…. his French doors with the Juliette balcony that looked over the street.

And here’s another example of how assuming we know what Shakespeare said leads to disaster. Her name is Juliet, not Juliette. It’s not like the correct spelling is hard to find, either; it’s right there in the title of the play.

An interesting side note is that in Romeo and Juliet, the stage directions call for our young lady to appear at a window, and a balcony is never mentioned. Dramatic and lovely as that feature is, it’s been added in adaptations.

Coffee — even weird, MacGuyver-brewed coffee — made everything better.

The Snarky Editor was a fan, too, but she believes if you’re going to expect your reader to follow you into forty-year-old TV references, you should take care to spell them correctly. The 1985 television series was called MacGyver (as was the 2016 reboot), from the name of the main character — who refused to carry a gun but could work his way out of any predicament using things like chewing gum, duct tape, and paperclips. Which made MacGyver quite a guy.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com

LITERAL: Reproduced word for word; exact, verbatim.

Writers usually fall short in the use of “literally” when they use it as an intensifier — when they intend to make something even more elaborate or strong or important than it would be if it was simply stated. And this happens most when they’re using metaphors or aphorisms or common sayings, rather than … well… speaking literally.

His parents had literally gone off the deep end when it came to fire-proofing his environment.

Going off the deep end, of course, is an expression meaning that someone has overreacted. In this case, his parents had gone well beyond sensible in trying to protect their son from fire. But unless they genuinely leaped into a swimming pool to do so, they did not literally go off the deep end.

My eyes were literally glued to the table.

Well… no, not unless someone’s been doing some pretty painful work with the rubber cement or the Elmer’s bottle. Call 911 — fast!

Especially since she was literally seconds away from having her baby…

The Snarky Editor only hopes that the best friend is literally already in the delivery room with her feet in the stirrups and a doctor standing by ready to catch.

Time came to a screeching halt. She literally froze in place.

Well, no. Not unless she’s in a cryo chamber or perhaps standing on a glacier somewhere.

I started flipping through the television channels and literally stumbled upon…

Let’s visualize. She’s sitting on the couch, remote control in hand. Stumbling involves tripping over one’s feet — which means at the very least she’d need to be standing up. One cannot sit and stumble at the same time.

“I’ve literally been buried in work.”

Maybe if she’s an undertaker? No, even then, it’s the clients who are buried, not the worker. So unless this person is being crushed to death by the weight of papers or textbooks or cartons of soft drinks or lawn clippings or caskets, she’s not literally buried in work.

None of these references are, in fact, literal. They’re all the opposite — figurative, where one thing stands for another.

The parents figuratively went off the deep end. Her eyes are figuratively glued to the table. The friend is figuratively seconds away from having the baby. She figuratively froze in place. She figuratively stumbled across the TV program. She’s figuratively been buried in work.

Sounds odd, doesn’t it? That’s because the figuratively isn’t necessary in any of these statements. But neither is literally. All of these comments mean exactly the same thing if we leave out the problematic, troublesome word literally. In fact, they’re mostly stronger when they’re simply stated, without any effort to add extra emphasis — because they’re emphatic, exaggerated images to start with.

So perhaps the best advice is to remove literally from our vocabulary. Figuratively, that is — because once in a while, we really do need to speak literally.

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The Snarky Editor comes out of hiding occasionally to comment on the awkward, silly, and sometimes hilarious editing errors found in published books.

#snarkyeditor #everybodyneedsaneditor

Leigh Michaels is the award-winning author of more than 100 books, including historical and contemporary romance, non-fiction books about writing, and local history. More than 35 million copies of her books are in print in 27 languages and more than 120 countries. She is also a writing coach and book editor, though she promises to be snarky only in regard to published books.

To find out more, check out https://leighmichaels.com