No, actually, it's not. Just because anyone or their dog can "publish" a book these days doesn't mean traditional publishing is dead. It lives on, for a number of reasons. One of them is that self-publishing has a reputation for being crap--and with good reason. Most of it is crap. Here at This is Why You're Self-Published we'll show you the most egregious examples. Author and book titles not included; if you really want to read the rest of this mess, I won't be held responsible.
A last word: what I've critiqued here is the equivalent of the first two manuscript length pages.
She didn't scream. She should have, but the scream never formed.
First question: Why should she have screamed?
The event took only a second, but it burned into Beka's mind. She could see every detail in her mind. She still could smell the stale beer and the blood.
Um. What? Every detail of what? What’s going on here?
Her mind tried to reject what she saw. She would not let it; she had seen what she had seen.
Thank you, Department of Redundancy Department. So what about what she saw? Did she see it? ‘Cause I’m not sure that’s been made clear enough.
Sarcasm aside, what? What happened here? I have no clue. Obfuscating copiously doesn’t make your book mysterious or intriguing; it makes it annoying. If you’re not going to immediately reveal this “event” then this paragraph has no place here. You’re wasting time. I need to know why I should care enough to keep reading.
The Burgundy Rathskeller, a nightclub her brother John owned, filled up early that night. John called Beka and begged her to help out, for some extra cash. She agreed.
I’m still not caring. This is this. He did this. She did that. This isn’t a story, it’s a listing of facts. Show me what happened. If you can’t show me, it’s not important enough to warrant its own paragraph.
Even though he, her landlord as well, never had asked her to pay one bill, the extra cash was always handy.
Ouch. Twist the sentence a bit why don’t you? Try this instead: “Though he was her landlord, he never asked her to pay the bills.” Strike the last bit. Extra cash is always handy and you’re about to tell us why that is anyway.
Her disability checks did not last too long.
“Even so, her disability checks didn’t last long.” See how that works? Between the last sentence and this one, the reader can easily discern that extra cash is handy. Though if you’re going to pull out the old ‘tug the heart strings with mention of a disability’ this soon, what is said disability? Why should I care about it? What makes me root for the fact that Beka is working in spite of it?
Beka was working as a waitress and bar back.
I don’t know what a bar back is. Is she mixing drinks? Serving food? Cleaning dishes? What on earth is she doing and why isn’t waitressing enough? Is her brother’s club so unsuccessful that she can’t get good tips? ‘Cause um, club tips? Whoo boy.
She had just finished taking a tray of food and drinks to the lounge that the band was using. She was coming back through the long hallway, pushing her way through the crowd waiting to use the bathrooms, when a fight broke out.
“She had just finished taking a tray of food and drinks to the band and was coming back through the hallway, pushing her way through the crowd, when a fight broke out.” That’s all that’s necessary. A reader is going to know that she didn’t walk right up on stage to bring the band drinks. They’re going to know the band isn’t going to eat food on stage. They’re going to know the nightclub is crowded because you already said so. Unless we’re going into the bathrooms, forget about them. They’re unimportant.
Someone was pushed.
You’re still not doing anything other than tell me facts.
A cascade of bodies tumbled toward Beka. Someone stumbled into someone else, who ended up shoving her.
First: Well obviously. To all of it. What else could a cascade of bodies do? Although cascade is so not the word I’d use here. And since they’re tumbling about like a waterfall, apparently, of course someone stumbles into someone else.
Second: How does Beka feel about this? Aside from the absurd obfuscating in the first paragraph, I have no clue how Beka feels, what her emotions are.
She hit the door to Vincent's private lounge and it opened.
This could just as easily mean that she knocked and Vincent opened the door. Did she hit it or did she actually collide with it?
Beka careened in, spilling the drinks on the floor.
Well I hardly think she spilled them on the ceiling. Also, she had more drinks? I didn’t know. Hey, now that the fridge logic is catching up to me, why are the bathrooms in a spot that interrupts the servers when they’re trying to do their job? And while I’m at it, why does Brother John let Beka wait if she’s incapable of keeping her poise enough not to drop drinks? And how did she avoid dropping them when the crowd ran into her in the first place? Also-also, I can’t find a definition of careen that matches the way you’re using it.
There it was.
Oh, well that clears things up.
On the fainting couch was Vincent and the young lady he had been charming all night.
The fainting couch? Really? What century is this supposed to be, anyway? How old are you? Who under fifty uses the term “young lady”? Also, I admit to a lack of experience with clubbing but even so, I’m pretty sure it’s less faint, more pass out.
She laid on her back, eyes closed, a slight smile curved on her lips. It looked romantic, until it registered with Beka what Vincent was doing.
Hey, we finally have some inkling of how Beka perceives something. And okay look, I have trouble with this one too, though I usually operate on instinct here (which has it’s ups and downs). But in reality you want “She lay on her back”, lay being the past tense of to lie. Laid is the past tense of to lay, and something tells me you’re not looking for either meaning of that one.
Vincent laid next to the young lady on his side,
I thought she was lying on the fainting couch. Why is she suddenly on Vincent’s side? “Vincent lay on his side next to the young lady.”
holding her with one arm. His hand was cupped around her breast. His lips on her neck.
I’m not opposed to sentence fragments from a stylistic point of view. Sometimes they work. This one? Not so much. Immediately my mind goes “His lips on her neck what?” And you can use “His hand cupped her breast.” Less wordy and um, if it’s cupping her breast, it’s pretty obviously around it. That’s how cupping operates.
Beka saw his teeth piercing the woman's neck; just the tops of his teeth were visible.
If only the tops of his teeth are visible then she can’t see his teeth piercing the woman’s neck. Your semi-colon connects these two sentences but what you’re actually trying to convey doesn’t fit. Just strike everything after the semi-colon. It adds absolutely nothing of value.
Vincent pulled his lips back, in a grimace.
Strike that comma.
A trickle of blood slithered down the young lady's skin.
No, no it did not because blood doesn’t slither. Slithering implies it somehow moves from side to side. Blood drips, it trickles, it runs, but it does not slither. If you want to pretty up your prose, know what you’re talking about first.
Beka stepped back. Reaching her hand behind her, she fumbled for the door.
“Fumble” is the only indication we get of how Beka feels about this. Is she scared? Excited? Ill? Disbelieving? I still don’t see why I should give a damn about any of this.
Vincent glanced up at her. His normal sweet blue eyes were now red with a tint of yellow.
Unless “sweet” is Beka’s perception of Vincent’s eyes, that adjective has no place there. How does Beka react to Vincent? Connect the adjective to her view of him or leave it out. Because I sure as hell don’t think his eyes are sweet.
He pointed at Beka.
Why?
She stumbled back, her hand groping for the door knob.
Stumbled back to where, precisely? She’d already backed up and started fumbling for the door. Also, is she scared yet? Something? Anything?
Her fingers wrapped around it and she pushed the door open. Beka forced herself to take another step back, into the crowded hallway.
Oh, so she’s not scared then. Else why would she need to “force” herself to take another step back?
She slammed the door shut as Vincent sat up.
Well she hardly slammed it open. Excuse me if I’m being a bit of a pedant here, but all the word shut does it make this redundant and more wordy. By now an agent or editor is probably wishing for a way to huck sample pages at the wall.
The press of the crowd kept her from running. Beka used her ample frame to push her way through the people standing around the hallway.
Ooo, hey, we finally have the first clue what the heck Beka looks like. Um, whoa, wait…she describes herself as “ample”? And for crying out loud, what else would she push her way through? You’ve stated more than once that there’s a tight knot of people there.
She shoved her way through the dance floor, using her elbows against the backs of the dancers.
No. Either she shoved her way through the crowd on the dance floor or she shoved her way across the dance floor. You can’t move through a floor, no matter what kind it is.
She slammed into the doors to the entry hall, squeezing her way pass Swen, the large bouncer, and outside. He spun around surprised, his dirty blond ponytail almost hitting Beka in the face.
Okay, I can maybe give you the name thing (although Swen? Really?) but why on earth would Beka notice his dirty blond ponytail almost hitting her in the face? Is she that unperturbed by the situation? Look, 1) the bouncer isn’t going to be in front of the employee exit, 2) there will be one because in most places law requires at least two modes of egress and 3) Swen’s hair is completely and utterly moot.
She stumbled out of the club and into the open street. She ran. Adrenaline took over, she forced herself to run, something her body did not want to do.
WHAT!? Deep breaths, deep breaths…The first sentence is redundant but not a major crime. It’s the rest of it. If adrenaline took over (from what? Have we gotten to fear yet?) then her body probably would have no problem with running. That’s kind of the point of adrenaline.
Beka ran a couple of blocks before her shins started to complain. Her heart felt like it was trying to come out of her chest. She tried to take in a breath, but couldn't. She choked. She collapsed on the bench at the covered bus stop and vomited.
Gah. Can’t you figure out any other way to start a sentence? Also, man, we don’t need every single miniscule detail here. Forget her trying to take a breath and being unable to; you’ve made it clear she’s exerted herself more than usual. Forget the choking bit, the vomit is bad enough. And if she’s that out of breath and ready to vomit she’s not going to notice a bench or a covered bus stop. More likely she’ll just bend over and let ‘er rip. Crude, I know, but we do want her to feel like an actual person, right?
She had ran two blocks and she felt like she was going to die.
No, really? I hadn’t noticed.
She coughed and gulped the cool night air. When she raised her head, Vincent stood in front of her.
And then she…
She wiped her face.
She wiped her face!? She didn’t jump? She didn’t feel fear? Then why the hell did she run away?
Her legs shook, her side felt like someone had stabbed her.
More words =/= dramatic tension. All you’re doing is stating yet again her physical state. How about her mental one? You’ve barely mentioned that at all.
Beka stared at him with her mouth open. She could not stop her heavy breathing, no screams or words could out.
We have this word in the English language, one that would make that wordy little sentence look like this: “Beka gaped at him.” Also, so in other words “She was breathing too heavily to get out a scream or even a word.” Though I still have no idea why she might scream. Apparently neither do you.
Vincent sat down. He looked like he always had.
Knowledge I, the reader, do not yet have. It’s called “sequence”, my friend, and it’s dreadfully important in writing.
His shoulder length brown hair, with the neat goatee and mustache, and his calming blue eyes.
Wat. His shoulder length brown hair, goatee/mustache, and calming blue eyes what? If you want to make this a stylistic sentence fragment: “Shoulder length brown hair, neat goatee and mustache, calming blue eyes.” You could even string it to the previous sentence with a colon. However I advise nixing “calming.” Blue might be a cool color and therefore soothing but it doesn’t work that way. Beka is supposed to be scared (even though you’ve done a lousy job of showing us that) so odds are good she won’t find his eyes “calming.”
He made no move toward her, instead staring off into the distance for a moment.
Vincent might just have the right idea. I’ll stop before I go cross-eyed. Now, I made it through roughly the equivalent of two manuscript pages here. I doubt an agent or editor is going to make it even that far. This is why you’re self-published.
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