The Importance of — gulp — Reading Your Writing Aloud
On our recent post about the different types of editing, WriteByNighter Glynis J. commented, in part, “I definitely am going to beg, borrow, and steal to get the professional copy editor. I paid attention in all of my English classes but… you know what I mean.”
I wish I’d paid attention in my English classes, because then I wouldn’t have to ask Justine “What’s a subordinate clause?” and “Just what in the hell is pluperfect?” In a couple of weeks we’ll discuss whether one needs a strong grasp of grammar in order to be a writer. It’s a question we’re asked often.
But today we want to address the “beg, borrow, and steal” aspect. While we strongly encourage you to hire a professional copyeditor when your manuscript is ready (of course we do — copyediting is one of our offerings), we understand that it’s not always feasible. So if you’re in a situation similar to Glynis’, we want to suggest a great strategy to help you edit your own copy.
In fact, we recommend doing this even if you do plan to hire a professional. After all, as we discussed a few weeks ago, even with a professional editor there is always a margin of error. The more eyes on your work, the better the chances of spotting goofs.
So are you ready? Because for some of you, this could get ugly.
Sorry, Phonophobes
Boy, do I despise the sound of my own voice. Most of us do. Here’s a non-geeky explanation, if you’re curious to know why. Or you might prefer to leave the science to the scientists and watch this fun Seinfeld scene instead.
(For whatever reason, I do like the recorded sound of my own laughter. Are any of you the same, where your own voice sounds hellish but your own laughter delightful? What’s that all about?)
So, this may not be the most attractive activity, but it sure is effective: Record yourself reading your writing aloud.
And then — gulp — listen to it.
Because of that whole hating-your-own-voice thing, you may wonder why you must record yourself, rather than, say, asking a friend to read your work aloud to you. Well, the answer lies in the fact that this is a two-step process, and the first is just as important as the second.
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Slow Down, Ya’ Move Too Fast
You know that thing where you suddenly pause while reading a book and realize that it’s been pages since you’ve paid any attention?
(I can’t seem to find a term for that, so rather than continue to call it “that thing,” let’s have a contest and come up with our own. What should we call that thing? Leave your idea in the comments below, and whoever comes up with the best/funniest gets a free book in the mail.)
Whatever that thing is called, it’s a bad thing. And although it’s always a good idea to print out your manuscript and read it — you catch far more typos and other goofs than you ever will by reading on a screen — even with your own work, you’ll sometimes drift off and lose all track of what you’re reading.
But reading your writing aloud forces you to move more slowly. Even if you’re a motormouth. And moving slowly makes you more aware of each line, each word. Why does that matter? Because when it comes to editing or proofing copy, each and every word is important.
As you’re reading your writing aloud into a recorder, follow the words with a red pen, and make marks when you spot typos or hit a section you want to revisit to investigate issues with clarity, flow, plot, etc. (Doing this requires some multitasking skills, and even then you won’t catch everything. Always read your writing internally, too, to find goofs.)
But as much as you can, let yourself get lost in the reading. This will come very much in handy when you get to the next step.
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Hear Ye, Hear Ye
Now buckle up, folks, because here’s where it gets scary. You know that recording you just made? Rewind to the beginning, take a deep, deep breath, and hit “Play.”
Because listening to your manuscript being read aloud will allow you to hear how your prose sounds. And hearing how your prose sounds allows you to identify trouble spots. Here are a few things to listen for:
Bumbles and stumbles: Is there a sequence of words you trip over while reading them aloud? Then there’s a good chance your reader will stumble when reading them.
Gasping: Do you need to pause and catch your breath in the middle of a line? Maybe it’s a run-on sentence. Are you out of breath by the end of a paragraph? Maybe that paragraph needs to be cut into two.
Clunk and bunk: Does some of your dialogue sound flat, unnatural and/or stilted when read aloud? Does it sound like the overdramatic stuff of soap operas? There’s probably a reason for that, and it needs to be addressed. Because the way your dialogue sounds when read aloud is very close to the way the reader will “hear” it in his or her mind.
Beware only looking for flaws, though. It’s essential to pat yourself on the back when identifying something you’ve done well. Do you catch yourself inadvertently speaking more quickly as the climax approaches? That probably means you’ve done a great job with pacing and with rising action. Good for you! Do you laugh out loud when listening to the recording? And is the reader supposed to laugh out loud at the same passage? Well hot damn, super-difficult mission accomplished.
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Crowd Schmowd
A final perk to reading your writing aloud and then listening to it is that when that blessed day comes and your manuscript is published and you begin lining up events, you’ll be more prepared; you’ll have already practiced reading your writing aloud.
You likely will also have identified passages that make for good live readings. Few things are more awkward than watching a writer trip and fall when reading his/her work aloud; it becomes painfully clear that he/she hasn’t practiced and has put no thought into that passage’s oral readability.
And if you’re nervous before or during a reading, just remember: yes, this time there is a scary audience, but no one in that crowd can possibly hate your voice as much as you do.
Discussion & Etc.
On a scale of one-to-nails on a chalkboard, how much do you dislike the sound of your own voice? What are some strategies you employ when editing or proofing your own work? What is the meaning of life? Did you come up with a fun word or phrase to signify that thing? Let us know in the comments section below.
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For some related posts, try:
Manuscript Preparation: How to Do it Right
Stop Starting and Start Finishing Your Writing
Conquer Your Fear of Writing … By Writing
WriteByNight co-founder David Duhr is books editor and fiction editor at the Texas Observer and contributes regularly to the Dallas Morning News, Publishing Perspectives, the Observer and others.
Seeing that most editors, no matter what their specialty is, charge by the hour, this will cut the cost a little — I hope. My voice isn’t too bad except when I hear it, I’m always surprised at how high the pitch is. I want to think of myself as an alto, but my voice says I’ve definitely a 2nd soprano. My problem is going to be stopping myself from yawning. And it may not be because I think my story is boring either. When my son was a child reading to him was awful for both of us because… Read more »
After some poking around, it appears that yawning while reading aloud is common. Something to do with expelling more breath than usual, maybe reading too quickly, and your body trying to compensate. So maybe try reading more softly and/or slowly? And if that doesn’t work, then I guess you’ll just have to yawn! Maybe reading your book aloud late at night will help put you to sleep. And not in a bad way…
Thanks for the comment, and good luck.
That thing: Driftreading. Absentminded letter recognition. Neglectful page turning.
Driftreading! I love that. It’s definitely in contention. I think we’ll keep this little competition open until our next post goes up (Friday), so check back. And thanks for playing.
After much discussion and deliberation, we’ve named “driftreading” the best new term for “that thing.” Congratulations, Stacy! Next year, let’s get it in Merriam Webster.
To claim your free book, drop me a line at david[at]writebynight.net
What Line Fever
Ah, good ol’ WLF. It’s an epidemic! What’s the old saying, starve a cold, feed What Line Fever? Or starve What Line Fever, feed a cold? I never remember which way it goes.
I like it. Thanks for playing.
Writer’s ADD (Attention Deficit Dreaming)
For which the only cure is to put the book down and let your mind wander. That, and Ritalin.
I can’t tell which one I like better: WADD (writer’s ADD) or RADD (reader’s ADD). They’re both pretty fun to say.
Thanks for playing.
“In trying to recall the last few paragraphs, I realized I’d given them the ERBE” (Eyes Reading-Brain Elsewhere).
I like it, Ken. The ol’ ERBE. How do we pronounce it? Er-bee? Er-bey? Ur-bee?
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