Editing Sample #1
The following sample illustrates the type of editing I do for clients.
Everyone Loves a Parade (Before)
We spent three days on the shore including two on Tybee and an additional day on Hilton Head Island less than an hour up the coast in neighboring South Carolina. We built sand castles, swam, sang, enjoyed a dolphin tour boat ride, and ate well for three days before starting our return home.
We agreed we'd make one last stop on our drive home. We'd visit Beaufort just thirty minutes north of Hilton Head. It was a beautiful late Saturday morning as we arrived anticipating lunch on the Beaufort's beautiful bay. As we approached the marina, traffic started backing up. Impatiently I decided to avoid the congestion by taking side streets. I am ruefully confident I have driven an additional thirty thousand miles over my lifetime taking "shortcuts", not listening to directions and refusing to turnaround. Recently we were listening to Dwight Yocum singing A THOUSAND MILES FROM NOWHERE on the car radio. Andrew observed: "He sounds really lost." I thought: "I know the feeling." My doing a better job of planning trips including looking at maps, imagine, following directions and even turning around is the better example I want Andrew to observe.
Dawn and Kimberly were often amused by my wanting examples.
"If there is anything we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could better be changed in ourselves."
Carl G. Jung THE DEVELOPMENT OF PERSONALITY
My side street traffic avoiding move had us peering down each intersection seeking an avenue to reach the downtown area and marina. My tried and unproven method of many years was problematic. There were police barricades at the end of the first four intersections. At the fifth we looked toward the bay and found access to the street anticipating a short cut to lunch with a view of the intercoastal. We swiftly made our way to the un-obscured opening. Our delight at finding entry was muted as we realized we had to turn right where we needed to go left. We quickly negotiated our obligatory turn and soon found ourselves interestingly between two sets of lively Masons. In front of us were a number of brazen riders on miniature motorcycles whirling around the street. Also throwing caution to the wind, closely behind us, was a second group in tiny cars zigzagging from one side of the road to the next. I said with mixed emotions:
"We're in a parade!"
After twelve years of marriage my wide-eyed wife could not feign the event extraordinary. Instead she excitedly inquired:
"Now what do we do?"
My reply: "The obvious my dear, smile and wave."
Mandy directly lowered her window and started waving with the nervous smile that comes as one anticipates calamity. At the same moment Andrew lowered his head below his window and in a voice of duress said:
"I've never been so embarrassed."
Our nondescript white Grand Marquis has been mistaken for a Norfolk Southern supervisors car, police car, and taxi so no telling who the good people of Beaufort thought we were. They kindly greeted us with smiles and waves as we continued on the parade route some six blocks past lots of excited people and several police officers. When we discovered an opening we departed the fun and fanfare. My cell phone rang just as we were exiting the parade. Dawn was returning my call, heard all the jovial noise, and asked: "where are you?"
I said: "you won't believe it, uh......, but then you probably will. I told her about our good fortune and how Mandy was smiling and waving and Andrew just embarrassed. Dawn, with here sage years of experience, gave her brother some sisterly advice: "Get use to it, it makes for great memories."
We wished Dawn and John a happy wedding anniversary as my mind flashed back to Dawn and Kim's childhood. One of the reoccurring and treasured themes of life is the excitement of the spontaneous. It reminds me to in all things give thanks.
After exiting the parade we parked and walked several blocks to the downtown marina where there was a festival in full swing. We settled in for lunch and a pleasing panoramic view of the marina, bay and inter-coastal waterway. Boats of many dimensions were moored and moving at various speeds. We were thankful we shared the celebration of the friendly South Carolina low-county crowd. It was a day to savor.
After lunch we crossed the bridge over to Lady's Island and then another bridge spanning the intercostal waterway back to the mainland. We were on our way home on highway 17. It was a circuitous route to avoid traffic, and more importantly, provided voyage over two spans that furnished additional spectacular views. We could see miles of the splendid sparkling waterways teaming with vessels and frolicking folks. Andrew predictably inquired about how long it would take to return home. He has graduated from time measured by the number of "kids shows" so I tell him four hours. I'm pleased Andrew is learning to tell time. Though I must admit four hours fosters less imagination than being eight kid's shows from home.
Everyone Loves a Parade (After)
If there is anything we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it
– Carl G. Jung
During three days on the shore, including an additional day on Hilton Head Island less than an hour up the coast in neighboring South Carolina, we built sand castles, swam, sang, ate well and enjoyed a dolphin-tour boat ride. On the drive home, we agreed to make one last stop.
Beaufort is just thirty minutes north of Hilton Head. Anticipating lunch on Beaufort's beautiful bay and approaching the marina, traffic started backing up. Impatiently I decided to avoid the congestion by taking side streets to the marina. Ironically, on the radio Dwight Yokum was singing A Thousand Miles from Nowhere.
"He sounds really lost," said Andrew.
I know the feeling, I thought, ruefully confident that during my lifetime of taking shortcuts I have driven an additional thirty thousand miles. The better example I want for Andrew would include looking at maps, following directions and even occasionally turning around.
Seeking an avenue to reach the marina, we encountered police barricades at the end of the first four intersections but at the fifth we found access. Anticipating a shortcut to our lunch we swiftly entered the unobstructed opening only to realize we had to turn right instead of left. Quickly negotiating the obligatory turn, we found ourselves squeezed between two sets of lively Masons, one set whirling around on miniature motorcycles in front and the other set zig-zagging behind us in tiny cars.
"We're in a parade!"
Mandy was astonished. Even after twelve years of marriage I could still manage to surprise my wide-eyed wife.
"Now what do we do?"
"The obvious, my dear," I grinned. "Smile and wave."
Mandy lowered her window and with a nervous smile started waving. Anticipating calamity, Andrew just sunk lower in his seat. His head below the level of the window, he said in a dispirited voice, "I've never been so embarrassed."
During the time we have owned our nondescript white Grand Marquis it has been mistaken for a Norfolk Southern supervisor's car, a police car and a taxi, but there is no telling who the good people of Beaufort thought we were that day. Nevertheless, they kindly greeted us with smiles and waves, and for six blocks we continued participating in the parade, waving at all the happy people and several police officers. Finally discovering an opening, we departed the fanfare just as my cell phone rang. It was Dawn.
"Where are you?" she asked, hearing all the noise.
"You won't believe it!" I began, then stopped. Dawn is, after all, my eldest daughter. Laughingly telling her about our adventure, in my mind's eye I could see her rolling her eyes. Based on years of experience, Dawn gave her brother some sisterly advice.
"Get used to it, kid. It makes for great memories."
Parking, we walked several blocks to the downtown marina where the festival was in full swing. Settling in for lunch and a pleasing panoramic view of the marina, bay and inter-coastal waterway, we watched boats of many dimensions, some moored and some moving. Thankful that we had shared in the friendly South Carolina celebration, we savored our meal and the day.
After lunch we crossed the bridge to Lady's Island and then another bridge spanning the inter-coastal waterway, the two spans furnishing spectacular views of the splendid waterway teeming with vessels. We were on Highway 17, taking a circuitous route to avoid traffic. Predictably, Andrew asked how long it would take to get home. Four hours, I told him, pleased that he is learning to tell time properly but a little misty because not so very long ago I would have said we were eight kid shows from home.