Wistful Wednesday

Revision: How Do I Make

This Better?

I thought I’d do something a little differently today. I thought I’d show you a little glimpse into the process of revision. Below is the latest of many incantations for the opening of a YA novel I’ve been working on for some time. But, like all of the openings before it, it just lacked the punch I was looking for. After weeks of trying to come up with a better opening, I submitted this portion of the opening to an online contest for the feedback and in so doing, had a breakthrough. I finally came up with something that I think packs the punch I was looking for, as well as conveying the information I wanted to convey in this section. Following this version is the new version. I invite you to read both and tell me what you think. Which one does the better job of conveying the information? Or do I still need to work on it? All suggestions are welcome.

Version #1:

I don’t ask for a lot. Really. In my family, there’s not much to ask for, anyway. I guess you could say that demand out-weighs supply. But even if there was anything to ask for, I wouldn’t. It’s just not me. I’m kind of happy with what I’ve got so why ask for more when I don’t need it? Still, it would be nice if, just once, I could ask for this: To get through the day without someone making fun of my name.

Just once.

Please?

No, of course not. That never seems to be the case. Inevitably, someone, some time, is struck by the urge to make fun of my name. And how could they resist? With an unfortunate moniker like Irene Goode, they have a lot to work with.

Yes, that’s right.

Irene.

Goode.

That’s me. A born punchline for all the budding comedians of Amory High. Or wanna-be mean girls.

Today, it was Bridget Taylor stepping up to the mike for her shot at school fame. And me. One thing about Bridget: She lacks imagination. So rather than dazzling her classmates with her stunning wit, she fell short with a dull pun. A variation of which she’d been slinging at me since our first encounter in grade school.

“Can you pass this to the Goode girl?”

Version #2:

I always knew my name would get me into trouble one day. Seriously, with a name like Irene Goode, the probability for trouble ranked pretty high, if you know what I mean. Well, I guess Irene’s not too bad – unless you’re like a certain someone who shall remain nameless (Bridget Taylor), who once told me, “We had a cow named Irene once. We ate it for dinner.” Seriously twisted. Even in grade school. Yeah, so tell me something like that and you make an issue out of the first name. But most of the time, it’s not so bad. Not great. But not bad. Oh, no. The problem is the last name.

Goode.

Do you know how hard it is to live up to a name like that?

I do.

Or how about Version #3, which adds more detail:

I always knew my name would get me into trouble one day. I just didn’t think it would take this long. Maybe I just have a long fuse. Or a short attention span. Something. But, anyway. It finally happened. I snapped. And my name got me in trouble.

Seriously, with a name like Irene Goode, the probability ranked pretty high, if you know what I mean. Well, I guess Irene’s not too bad – unless you’re like a certain someone who shall remain nameless (Bridget Taylor), who once told me, “We had a cow named Irene once. We ate it for dinner.”

But she was one twisted sister. I mean seriously twisted. Even in grade school. Who would name something and then eat it? Or even say they did? That’s a demented thing for anyone to say, but really disturbing coming from a seven-year old.

Yeah, so tell me something like that and you make an issue out of the first name. But most of the time, it’s not so bad. Not great. (Like Maxie or Roxie, my idols!) But not bad. Oh, no. The problem is the last name.

Goode.

Do you know how hard it is to live up to a name like that?

I do.

So what do you think? Which version do you like better? And do you have any revision tips for other aspiring writers out there?