Edit: action aplenty, but needs thought

"RW" sent the prologue and first chapter of her novel for a sample look-see. Here are the first pages from the prologue.

Moenkopi Arizona 1994

She couldn't run any more, but she didn't dare stop. She couldn't see anything through the pouring rain and darkness. She tripped and landed on her face in the slippery clay dirt. A sharp stone sliced into her cheek and she cried out in pain. A pair of lights swished by in the distance; then another. It was a road, had to be. She scrambled to her feet and stumbled through the brush and rocks. If she could just make it to the road and catch a ride… almost there.

Suddenly she was sliding down over rocks and sharp roots she screamed and clawed at the slippery bank but the little scrubby tree she managed to grab just slid through her cold wet fingers like a piece of sandpaper taking a layer of skin with it. She should have known that the only drainage ditch in all of Arizona would be beside the road that she Alexis Morgan would need to reach. It was her luck. Damn!

She huddled for a moment in the bottom of the ditch. A few inches of icy water flowed over her already soaked dirty white tennis shoes and the bottom of her jeans. She couldn't stop shivering. So she stood and began to climb up the other side; she could hear another car coming. If she could just get to the road before it went by. One shoe was planted firmly atop a large jagged rock. She couldn't see it but was sure that it would hold her ninety nine pounds. She hung on to a little scrub whose tiny thorns dug into her numb fingers. She hardly noticed. She was almost there. Then the rock slid and she with it back to the little river in the bottom of the ditch. The lights flashed past, Damnit, damnit; damnit! Her teeth were chattering so hard she could hardly pronounce the words.

It appeared that she should have stayed and gone through with it. She was going to die any way, and their way might have been less miserable. Now she was going to hell for sure. Tears began to mix with the rain that stung her face despite the soggy bill of her baseball cap. How long did it take to freeze to death in the rain? A day? A week? They would find her by then and force her to go through with it. She should, she knew it was the right thing but she was afraid. And for that she was dammed to eternal hell. It wasn't fair!

I like the way RW has opened with strong action, and a character in terrible trouble. Good movement, mostly effective visualization, but there's some tightening to do, and some staging to think more carefully about. Usual caveat: this is all subjective, take it or leave it. Now the edit:

Moenkopi Arizona 1994

She couldn't run any more, but she didn't dare stop. (I would use her name here. The later introduction is a little clumsy, and there's no reason to withhold it here. A name helps give the reader more to connect with.) She couldn't see anything through the pouring rain and darkness. She tripped and landed on her face in the slippery clay dirt. A sharp stone sliced into her cheek and she cried out in pain. A pair of lights swished by in the distance; then another. It was a road, had to be. She scrambled to her feet and stumbled through the brush and rocks. If she could just make it to the road and catch a ride… almost there.

Suddenly she was sliding down over rocks and sharp roots. (I don't think roots can be sharp.) she She screamed and clawed at the slippery bank. (This construction means that she screamed at the bank, which doesn't make a lot of sense. A fix: She screamed, and she clawed at the slippery bank.) but the little scrubby tree she managed to grab just slid through her cold wet fingers like a piece of sandpaper taking a layer of skin with it. (Even as a separate sentence, this is a bit tangled and run-on. Also, what is a "scrubby tree?" A "tree" is a big thing and should not slip through fingers, but brush would. How about this: She grabbed a small sage brush, but it slipped through her cold, wet fingers. Like sandpaper, it took skin with it.) She should have known that the only drainage ditch in all of Arizona would be beside the road that she, Alexis Morgan, (Need commas to separate name, and construction is clumsy, see earlier note about where to introduce name.) would need to reach. (This is a sardonic thought, and doesn't seem appropriate for someone running through the dark; it seems contrary to the panic and fear she must be feeling. More than that, Arizona must have more than one drainage ditch. I would cut the rest of this paragraph and pick up with huddling in the ditch.) It was her luck. Damn!

She huddled for a moment in the bottom of the ditch. A few inches of iIcy water flowed over her already soaked dirty white tennis shoes and the bottom of her jeans. She couldn't stop shivering. So she stood and began to climb up the other side; she could heard another car coming. If she could just get to the road before it went by. One shoe was planted firmly atop a large jagged rock. (This is passive. Better: She planted a foot atop a jagged rock…) She couldn't see it (if she can't see it, how does she know it's large, or jagged, or will hold her weight? I know you're working to slip her description in, but this doesn't seem to work in a physical sense.) but was sure that it would hold her ninety-nine pounds. She hung on to a little scrub ("scrub" can be a verb or an adjective, but it's not a thing to hold onto.) whose tiny thorns dug into her numb fingers. She hardly noticed. She was almost there. Then the rock slid and she fell with it back to the little river in the bottom of the ditch. (This is good, but I think you need to go through her actions and the environment carefully and try to "live" it in order to avoid things such as knowing what a rock is like without being able to see it. Here's an example of how this action could work. She groped and her fingers discovered a large, jagged rock. It felt like it would hold her ninety-nine pounds, so she planted a foot on it and pushed upward. The rock broke free and she fell with it back to the bottom of the little river in the bottom of the ditch. (you need to work at getting inside the head of the character and experience the environment and what is possible as realistically as possible) The lights flashed past, . "Damnit, damnit; damnit! " (If it's said out loud, it's dialogue and needs quotation marks.) Her teeth were chatteringchattered so hard she could hardly pronounce the words.

It appeared that sShe should have stayed and gone through with it. (I know you don't want to tell us what "it" is, but is there any clue you can give? I.e., is it a ceremony? A trial? What?) She was going to die any way, and their way might have been less miserable. Now she was going (Suggest "would go" to avoid the "was" with a participle, which is not as crisp.) to hell for sure. Tears began to mix with the rain that stung her face despite the soggy bill of her baseball cap. How long did it take to freeze to death in the rain? (If it's raining, it's not possible to "freeze" to death because the temperature is not below freezing. It would be possible to die of exposure to very cold temperatures in a cold rain, but to use "freezing" is contradictory.) A day? A week? They would find her by then and force her to go through with it. (how would they force her if she was frozen/dead?) She should, she knew it was the right thing to do, but she was afraid. And for that she was dammed to eternal hell. It wasn't fair! (Nice mysterious allusion to things she knows and we don't.)

There's not enough room to show the entire prologue, but it does end with a snap and a very strong story question (on top of the ones about who is this person and what's she running from), and I believe it served its purpose of drawing me into the story.

Thanks, RW, for sharing your work with us.

A word on my process: for these quick edits, I go through the sample just once, and that's what you're seeing here. In a paid edit, I print out the first edit and go through it again in hard copy, then there's more looking at the ms as I input the notes from the hard-copy edit. As you see, I do a great deal of coaching with comments--in a recent edit I inserted 45,000 words of comments!

For what it's worth.

Ray

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