Reading Aloud

dr_mabeuse

seduce the mind
Joined
Oct 10, 2002
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Was watching some writer on TV giving a talk to an audience of kids about how she conducted her craft. I don’t know who she was, but it was a local channel so I don’t think she was any Pulitzer Prize winner or anything. She apparently was published, though.

Anyhow, she calimed that she puts her stories through 20-21 revisions or so. She writes on a computer, then prints out the story and does her edits on the hard copy, then I guess she enters them into the computer and starts editing again. It sounded kind of goofy to me, not only that she would go from PC to pen-and-ink and then back again, but that she would do an entire revision at one time and then start all over again. Sounds like a hangover from typewriter days.

She was also very big on reading her story out loud during editing, which is something I myself no longer do. I used to do it, but I was always kind of suspicious, and then one day I noticed that I was using speech mannerisms and expression that came across in oral reading but not in the visual text. In other words, when reading my story aloud I was automatically putting in all the non-verbal stuff, the shrugs, the inflection, the little expressions you’re not even aware of when you’re reading aloud but that aren't in the text. I already knew what the story should sound like, and I subconsciously included that in my reading aloud. I was interpreting as I was reading. That's cheating, and so I stopped reading aloud.

I believe pretty strongly that speaking and writing are two very different things. I don’t believe that you can write a story simply by speaking into a recorder and then transcribing the words into print, and conversely, things that often work in print don’t always make for very expressive speech. I have no proof off hand, but I'm pretty sure too that you don't process aural speech the way you process the written word, so I have real doubts about the value of reading aloud as an editorial tool.

I’m curious as to how other writers feel about this though. Do you read your story aloud to see how it sounds? Or do you just work with the written word?

---dr.M.
 
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I suppose it depends to some extent on weather or not the work is meant to be read aloud. (as is often the case with Juvinile Fiction) If it is very likely going to be read aloud, you probably should and if it probably isn't then you probably don't need to and you're probably right that it may in fact be counterproductive.

Probably.

:)

My stories are sometimes lucky to get one revision. (I"m terrible like that) forget about 20!
 
Oh, stop bitchin'!

It was summer, which month I forget. I remember the heat, the long boiling in the blood, the airless nights. The sun would go down, but the torrid air still hung over you, thick with its unbreathable smells. It was on one of those nights that Ferdinand finally made his move - inching across the room on all fours, coming toward my bed with dim-witted stealth. For reasons I still do not understand, all my panic subsided the moment he touched me. I had been lying there in the darkness, pretending to be asleep, not knowing whether I should try to fight him off or just scream as loudly as I could. Now, it suddenly became clear to me that I should do neither on of those things. Ferdinand placed his hand on my breast and let out a snickering little laugh, one of those smug, abject noises that can only come from people who are in fact already dead, and at that moment I knew precisely what I was going to do. There was a depth of certainty to this knowledge that I had never felt before. I did not struggle, I did not cry out, I did not react with any part of myself that could recognise as my own. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. I mean nothing at all. There was this certainty inside me, and it destroyed everything else. The moment Ferdinand touched me, I knew that I was going to kill him, and the certainty was so great, so overpowering, that I almost wanted to stop and tell him about it, just so he would be able to understand what I thought of him and why he deserved to be dead.

He slid his body closer to mine, stretching out along the edge of the pallet, and began to nuzzle his rough face against my neck, muttering to me about how he had been right all along, and yes, he was going to fuck me, and yes, I was going to love every second of it. His breath smelled of the beef jerky and turnips we had eaten for dinner, and we were both sweating bullets, our bodies totally covered with sweat. The air was suffocating in that room, utterly without movement, and each time he touched me I could feel the salt water slide across my skin. I did nothing to stop him, just lay there limp and passionless without saying a word. After a while, he began to forget himself, I could feel it, could feel him foraging around my body, and then, when he started to climb on top of me, I put my fingers around his neck. I did it lightly at first, pretending to be playing with him, as though I had finally succumbed to his charms, his irresistible charms, and because of that he suspected nothing. Then I began to squeeze, and a sharp little gagging sound came out of his throat. In that first instant after I began to apply the pressure, I felt an immense happiness, a surging, uncontrollable sense of rapture. It was as though I had crossed some inner threshhold, and all at once the world became different, a place of unimaginable simplicity. I shut my eyes, and then it began to feel as if I were flying through empty space, moving through an enormous night of blackness and stars. As long as I held on to Ferdinand's throat, I was free. I was beyond the pull of the earth, beyond the night, beyond any thought of myself.

Then came the oddest part of it. Just when it became clear to me that a few more moments of pressure would finish the job, I let go. It had nothing to do with weakness, nothing to do with pity. My grip around Ferdinand's throat was like iron, and no amount of thrashing and kicking would ever have loosened it. What happened was that I suddenly became aware of the pleasure I was feeling. I don't know how else to describe it, but right there at the end, as I lay on my back in the sweltering darkness, slowly squeezing the life out of Ferdinand, I understood that I was not killing him in self-defense - I was killing him for the pure pleasure of it. Horrible consciousness, horrible, horrible consciousness. I let go of Ferdinand's throat and pushed him away from me as violently as I could. I felt nothing but disgust, nothing but outrage and bitterness. It almost didn't matter that I had stopped. A few seconds either way, was all it meant, but now I understood that I was no better than Ferdinand, no better than anyone else.

A tremendous, wheezing gasp emerged from Ferdinand's lungs, a miserable, in human sound like the braying of a donkey. He writhed around on the floor and clutched his throat, chest heaving in panic, desperately gulping air, sputtering, coughing, retching up the catastrophe all over himself. "Now you understand," I said to him. "Now you know what you're up against. The next time you try something like that, I won't be so generous."

I didn't even wait until he had fully recovered. He was going to live, and that was enough, that was more than enough. I scrambled into my clothes and left the apartment, walking down the stairs and out into the night. It had all happened so quickly. From beginning to end, I realised, the whole thing had taken just a few minutes. And Isabel had slept through it. That was a miracle in itself. I had come within an inch of killing her husband, and Isabel had not even stirred in her bed.

Paul Auster
 
I almost always read my dialogue aloud, imitating the cadences of the speakers.
 
dr_mabeuse said:
I have no proof off hand, but I'm pretty sure too that you don't process aural speech the way you process the written word, so I have real doubts about the value of reading aloud as an editorial tool.

A couple of points:

Copywriters, who can be fired for serious proofreading errors that escape our notice, learn that reading aloud almost always turns up errors that were missed during a silent read-through.

The first time I wrote a radio commercial, the script was much too long and had to be edited in the studio. I had made the mistake of timing it without reading it aloud. It turns out that no matter how slowly you think you're pacing a "silent reading" of your work, it's almost impossible to read it as slowly as you would read it aloud. The brain works faster than the mouth. Yes, even my brain works faster than my mouth, at least where script-writing is concerned. The discipline of reading aloud can reveal passages that are over-long and in need of editing.

<gets off at next stop, changes to another train of thought>

Don't you find that your favorite literature sounds great when it's read aloud? I'm not sure that every written work needs to pass that litmus test to be good, but when I find a favorite phrase or paragraph in something I'm reading, it seems to just beg to be read aloud.
 
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I've agonized over individual words and pacing of phrases to, hopefully, convey some extra meaning. You're right, though, that it isn't so much a vocal pattern as a rhythmic one. Although, it's particularly effective in dialogue.

A declining number of syllables in the sentences, with the right words, can imply mood or tension. The last sentence of a paragraph is the most important as it leads to the next. It should make the reader wanting more.

I do act out the dialogue portions to see if those shrugs and expressions need to be conveyed in the tags. It probably looks silly as hell.
 
I never read whole pieces out loud but if something doesn't quite look right written down I will read it out loud to see if I can work out what isn't working :)
 
In general, I do not read things that I write in my native tongue aloud. Anything that is written in a different language gets read aloud, to myself and sometimes to a volunteer. (Depends on the subject matter.) Anything that I write as dialogues or poems in any language gets read aloud again.
 
I don't generally read my work aloud during editing, although I can certainly see the merit in that, especially with dialogue.

However, I DO print my work out and use a red ink pen, make notes on he hard copy, and then interpret them into revisions on the computer later. I do this about 12 or so times average for each story I've posted here. I find that by reading hard copy I'm more apt to catch errors and repetitive phrases that I might just gloss over on the computer screen. As a self editing technique I think it's valid for me, because it puts my work into a different medium... and takes me out of the familiar environment of the monitor screen where I do the WRITING and takes me to an actual physical piece of paper where I do my CRITICAL READING. It helps me. That doesn't necessarily mean it would help others though.

The side benefit to that is that I have a hard copy record of my story in various stages of progress, along with the red ink notes I made that I then translated into revisions in subsequent drafts. I feel that this not only helps me see how things progressed, but also provides a sort of proof of my process--that the story is mine, and if pressed, I can prove it. As to how useful that is, I really don't know, but it gives me a strange piece of mind in any case.
 
I'm expirimenting with the reading-aloud process right now. I've used it in the past for poetry and it's been very effective: what I would do is simply compose the poetry in my head and begin speaking, stopping whenever I came to something I didn't like, verbally reworking the line, and then starting aloud from the beginning again. I'd keep at it until every word and every phrase seemed to follow perfectly from the previous. Probably the best poems I ever wrote used that technique. Obviously I can't use exactly the same process for prose (if I started reading my novel from the beginning every time I encountered a phrase I didn't like, I'd never get through it).

I also want to address her method of printing out the document into hard copy, marking it up, and then retyping it. I do the same thing. Here's the reason: I'm the laziest editor ever. When I edit on the screen, I tend to skip over passages that I've worked on a lot. But when I'm retyping the entire story, I'm retyping every word, so if it's not the right word or the right phrase, I might as well type in a better phrase. I started doing this way back in college when I was writing English papers, and it's become a habit for me. Not necessary for those who are naturally meticulous, but extremely useful for me.
 
dr_mabeuse said:
I’m curious as to how other writers feel about this though. Do you read your story aloud to see how it sounds? Or do you just work with the written word?

---dr.M.

Only the dialog. It helps me soften it and make it more speech-like.
 
I had one opinion about the value of reading your own writing aloud before I did my Text With Audio submission and another afterwards.

I found that I would unconsciously edit the written text as I spoke. It took several retrys before I could eliminate the problem.

I do not have the same problem when reading aloud another author's work.
 
I do like to read aloud, but then I like the music of word sounds and beats as well as the meaning. One has to be careful with this; I did realize at one point that I had read the same sentence three times through trying to cut back the verbiage, and I wasn't cutting because I was clinging to the iambic meter. But I think that there is a place for prose that gives heed to the sounds of words as well as their denotative meanings.

Reading aloud also helps me with dialogue, and on more than one level. Yes, it helps to make sure that the characters have consistant voices; it also helps one to ensure that the dialogue sounds distinct from style of the rest of the work. I enjoy the contrast.

(As for that back-and-forth between paper and computer - the woman's clearly pathological.)

Shanglan
 
clearly, in a novel or particularly a script, people say things that they wouldn't normally say, in a language they wouldn't normally use.

Many years ago I actually had a girlfriend attempt to dump me by going into long phrases, unused words and generally trying to explain in unfamiliar (to her) words. My reaction was to complain that I hadn't seen the script and didn't know what my next line was.

If she had written it all in a letter and sent that to me, then there would have been nothing unusual at all.

The same goes for the way that I would have read the letter, knowing who had written it. There would have been nothing extraordinary because I would have translated it into her natural speaking voice, in my head, gliding over awkward sentences and substituting or deciding on meanings as I read.

I read aloud (and occasionally act out if I'm looking for a good speech tag) only the dialogue.

I have a particular poem at lit that I'm very fond of because it reminds me of Elliot. I re-read that poem as though I'm reading aloud. As I was reading "The Wasteland" the other day I found myself doing exactly the same thing. Call me TS.
 
gauchecritic said:

I have a particular poem at lit that I'm very fond of because it reminds me of Elliot. I re-read that poem as though I'm reading aloud. As I was reading "The Wasteland" the other day I found myself doing exactly the same thing. Call me TS.

Can you really be so heartless that you will not tell us the name of the poem?

Shanglan
 
R. Richard said:
I had one opinion about the value of reading your own writing aloud before I did my Text With Audio submission and another afterwards.

And with poetry in particular! Changed my outlook BIG TIME.
 
I always tend to pick up little errors in my writing if I read it aloud, and when I'm writing something important, I will read it to myself. I went through my entire first novel looking for errors like that.

I also printo ut a copy and go searching for errors with a pen. I don't know why, but I find it much easier to read from hard copy - I take more in and am more likely to read what is there, rather than what ought to be there.

Different strokes, I suppose. My editing isn't anywhere near as effective on my own work if its on screen and silent. Strangely enough the same constraints don't apply when I'm working on someone else's.

The Earl
 
Sub Joe said:
I almost always read my dialogue aloud, imitating the cadences of the speakers.
Dialouge yes. Me too. Sometimes

As for narration, no. I read so much fasrter than I speak, most people do. And since I want to get the right feel for it, it's wisest to "replay" it in the tempo that people are most likely to digest the story.

#L
 
As the replies indicate, there's no one "right" way. Like Doc, I can't imagine dictating a book, but it has been done. For most folks, their written vocabularly is much larger than the one they use in conversation. That's something speech writers always have to keep in mind.

A lot of folks can pick out errors on a hard-copy they'd overlook on the computer screen. And it isn't necessary to re-type the entire mss., just the sections that need work.

A common error among new writers is to have all their characters sound alike. Often, in an attempt to avoid that, they'll overuse dialect. Some writers have better "ears" than others and can replicate the sound of different characters. While I agree there can be a problem with adding inflections readers wouldn't be aware of, reading aloud can be useful, especially with dialogue.

One of the nice things about Lit, is it gives new writers a chance to experiment and then display the results.

For what it's worth, I mumble narrative and read dialogue out loud (if I'm alone) at least during the first few revisions.

Rumple Foreskin :cool:
 
It's been suggested to me by a lot of writers that I should read everything aloud, but I don't. I can't really see the point in doing it, unless it's like sweetnpetite said about a story that will likely be read aloud. I've got a lot of room in my head, I can do it all up there.

When I do revisions I print out a hard copy and give it to my trusty proofreaders. (Basically friends and family with a basis in English.) They do the first red ink on my work. I have trouble editing my own work because my mind knows what I was supposed to write and fills it in even if it's not actually on the page. I miss things that would leap off the page at me in someone else's work. As far as re-typing the whole thing, fuck that! Not a chance. If you're going to do that, why bother with a word processor? Might as well scratch on cave walls.
 
I don't read my stories out loud when I edit them.

Like MLyons, I print out and then go through with a red pen. Something about that process (and physically removing oneself from the screen) actually "feels" like editing.

My personal view is that the reader will read the stuff out aloud, even if aloud is only in their mind. By that I mean that they will provide accents, inflections, pacing, etc in both the dialogue and narrative. I can impart an overall "voice" to the piece, as that is my author's voice. But for me to read it out loud is to imply that there is only one way it can successfully be interpreted. The beauty of reading is, of course, that you can make your own interpretation of what is on the page. It would be like writing a song and singing it acoustically, only to find that every singer wants to do a full orchestral background.

Writing has to stand or fall on the merits of what is on the page, not according to how the reader interprets it in their own mind and context. This is why writing comedy is frighteningly difficult - you have no control over when or how it will be read.

Incidentally, being read to (especially by someone with a talent for it) is a deliciously sexy and underrated luxury.
 
steve w said:

Like MLyons, I print out and then go through with a red pen. Something about that process (and physically removing oneself from the screen) actually "feels" like editing.

I do this as well. I think it helps that I can just focus on picking out what needs to change, and not obsess for hours over how to change it at that point. I can circle a clanking line and make some notes about changing it with completely derailing the reading process. Otherwise, it's too tempting to fiddle an hour per paragraph, and I lose the sense of the work as a whole.

Shanglan
 
BlackShanglan said:
I do this as well. I think it helps that I can just focus on picking out what needs to change, and not obsess for hours over how to change it at that point. I can circle a clanking line and make some notes about changing it with completely derailing the reading process. Otherwise, it's too tempting to fiddle an hour per paragraph, and I lose the sense of the work as a whole.

Shanglan

Exactly. It's almost as if there are two me's. One is my critical reading/editing me, and one is my writing/revision me. My notes when I do this sometimes offer specific corrections to grammar or wording, etc. But most of them are vague, allowing me not to interrupt the critical reading part of it, but still putting up a sign-post that something needs fixing when I come back to it on a computer screen.

"Tighten" is a common one that I use for dialogue. My writing-me knows what it means, and it's a pain in the ass.

"different word" -- This one pisses me off too. Hardest thing to do, sometimes, finding exactly the right word you want. I'm almost never satisfied.

"Cut" -- LOVE this one!

"UGH!! Fix this" accompanied by a huge bracket that encompasses several paragraphs -- HATE this one. Usually means that I know it's a story problem. I know it's wrong, but I don't have the first clue what I'm going to do to make it better.

Then there's the occasional "Add such and such here." Don't much like those either, because they usually mean a lot of work. But biting the bullet and just fucking doing it is how critical reading can spawn decent writing.
 
MLyons said:
Exactly. It's almost as if there are two me's. One is my critical reading/editing me, and one is my writing/revision me. My notes when I do this sometimes offer specific corrections to grammar or wording, etc. But most of them are vague, allowing me not to interrupt the critical reading part of it, but still putting up a sign-post that something needs fixing when I come back to it on a computer screen.

"Tighten" is a common one that I use for dialogue. My writing-me knows what it means, and it's a pain in the ass.

"different word" -- This one pisses me off too. Hardest thing to do, sometimes, finding exactly the right word you want. I'm almost never satisfied.

"Cut" -- LOVE this one!

"UGH!! Fix this" accompanied by a huge bracket that encompasses several paragraphs -- HATE this one. Usually means that I know it's a story problem. I know it's wrong, but I don't have the first clue what I'm going to do to make it better.

Then there's the occasional "Add such and such here." Don't much like those either, because they usually mean a lot of work. But biting the bullet and just fucking doing it is how critical reading can spawn decent writing.

I also like printing out one-sided copies and using the verso leafs to scrawl ideas and notes. The screenplay drafts end up swatched in multiple colors of ink from different read-throughs.

I have notes of my own, of course, but personally I love Carson's best. "Yoda!"

:heart:

Shanglan
 
When I recorded the audio book version of my horror novel, Black Roses (shameless plug!), I was startled to catch several more bloopers despite the fact that I had been over it multiple times and half a dozen other people had proofread it.

I also discovered how many words I used in my writing that I had seen in print plenty of times before but never actually heard spoken aloud. Had to stop and get the dictionary a few times to look up pronunciations.

Made me think how awkward that would be, to get on a show like Jeopardy or something and know the answer ... how to spell it, but not how to pronounce it!

I also find that reading aloud helps with some things that wouldn't otherwise seem apparent, like character names that for one reason or another are hard to say (Travis Zane was the big one), or words that just sound strange when said together.

Sabledrake
 
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