Pacing | Ch. 4

Published on 21 November 2024 at 12:26

After finishing Chapter 8, I breezed through edits to Chapter 3. 

Only a few minor touch-ups were needed, mostly smoother transitions where I'd decided to change where the paragraph broke. I still have a nagging feeling that something isn't quite working between chapters 2 and 3—I think it's still the "theme statement" and where it comes from, Iantha or Bartus' dad. But I'm letting that sit on the backburner as I move into Chapter 4. 

There won't be too much to edit here. Most of my beta readers have said that the end of Chapter 3 is where things really picked up for them, and by the end of Chapter 4 most said they couldn't put the book down. Still, upon revisiting the first paragraph I can see that I will need to make some adjustments. I tend to write my way into a story or a chapter; when I'm not sure what will happen next, I linger too long on scenery. I also really enjoy forest atmospheres, and can't resist a character walking through a forest, especially the tall pines of the Saaristan province. 

While I don't need to get rid of all the ambience (that would suck the joy out of writing for me), I think I can trim this chapter intro: 

"The walk to Maarkona was not a difficult one, though Bartus found himself wishing that he had more time to take in the evergreen forests his path wound through, or the villages further west that he had never visited. He walked through that first night and well into the day until the road butted directly into a small town with a single road leading through it. He was tempted to spend one of the sunstone coins on a tea from an herbalist’s shop there—it claimed to revive the senses and alert the mind—but decided to keep the money in case he needed it in Maarkona. Instead, his eyes heavy with drowsy, he rested an hour under a large fir tree and relaxed his feet; they were not yet used to the fur boots his father had lent him, though he was pleasantly surprised to find that they fit him near perfectly. Once he’d regained enough energy, he continued on the path Vandral had indicated into the evening."

During these rewrites, I've really been trying to get the beginning of each chapter to be a hook that pulls the reader in, rather than them feeling like the story is dragging on. "The walk to Maarkona was not a difficult one" is such a bland statement, even if factual. It immediately lets the air out of the previous chapter ending, where Bartus is excited to go on his adventure and meet the guildmasters. 

So, let's try some revisions to keep that sense of adventure in Chapter 4's intro paragraph. 

"Through the night and well into the next day, Bartus walked the path to Maarkona among the dense evergreen forests of southcentral Saaristo. He stopped briefly at a small town built along a single road, where he was tempted to spend one of the sunstone coins on a tea from an herbalist’s shop—it claimed to revive the senses and alert the mind—but ultimately decided to keep the money in case he needed it for boarding the ship. Instead, eyes heavy with drowsiness, he paused beneath a large fir tree just outside the town to rest and nurse his feet. The boots his father had lent him fit well enough, though they rubbed along his heel. He allowed himself only an hour to linger, then continued down the path Vandral had indicated and into dusk.

He could not miss this ship."

The changes here aren't anything drastic. Really, the original isn't too bad. but I think that there is more immediacy in the revision, a sense of movement that compels the reader onward with Bartus, onward to Maarkona and the adventure that awaits him aboard the Peranosta

Here are some other examples of chapter beginnings that I've changed to better hooks: 

Chapter Two (Original)

Feeling as though he’d left a part of himself back at the drydocks, Bartus returned to the boarding house. Mistress Hannele looked up from her laundry work when he entered, a question on her knitted brows. Bartus ignored the expression and headed upstairs to his room, where he sat on his bed and stared out the window until he found the strength to search under his bed and find the knapsack he’d brought from home three years ago.

Chapter Three (Original) 

Despite her despair at him possibly leaving so soon, Ma seemed content to send Bartus out of the house for work as much as she could for the following week. He spent the first two days fixing a leak in the farmhouse roof, where some of the wooden shingles had been cracked by growing moss; the next three days were spent picking the peaches that had already ripened; on the sixth and seventh days, he worked with Da to finish building a new storage shed after the old one had been blown down by a springtime monsoon. And on the final and eighth day of the week, he spent the morning preparing several peach tarts for the festival that night.

Chapter Two (Revised) 

The following morning, Bartus stepped out onto the streets of Telakaat for the last time, an overstuffed rucksack on his back and not one sunstone coin in his pocket.

No compass. No guild. No money.

Chapter Three (Revised)

Some mothers, upon learning that their son would be leaving again less than a week after returning home, would dote upon their wayward child in an effort to win them over. The best of the summer ales would be pulled out early, a mattress of fresh straw would be made and set up in the loft by the window overlooking the orchard, and the evenings would be filled with long hours by the hearth conversing or listening as someone plucked a psaltery.

Not so with Ma, as Bartus soon discovered.