Monday, September 21, 2020

Painless Poker

 



Here's a sentence that I know the background on. I have been Tommy Angelo's editor since 2006. Let's look at the sentence first, then I'll pull the curtain back on how it came to be. 

Painless Poker's first sentence is direct. It uses short, informal words, as if the author was speaking in person to the reader. "Don't even" has attitude – a pushy, triggered edge – these are the words someone would use who was tired of the same complaints heard over and over again. The author presses us not to speak to him – even though we actually can't. That creates an instant feeling of being in the conversation. We are close – there is no polite distance or protective frame between us and the author. 

And what would we talk about if we could? "How much it hurts." The subject is pain. Pain is the most intense evidence of a problem, personal, present, and physical. The sentence implies that you have pain, and the author knows it. That's the hook – you have pain. There are two people who have problems here – you with your pain and the author, who knows it, but doesn't want to hear about it. 

There is also a promise. The direct language implies that the author will tell you the truth, and the fact that he knows you have pain implies that he sees you, even if he doesn't want to hear about you. So the promise is that you will hear truth that applies to you. 

This is a compelling sentence. I tried to talk Tommy out of it. It was too rude, I thought, to be a reader's first encounter with the book, and it might leave the reader thinking Tommy didn't care. The sentence had come to him after months of engaging with the book, and he knew it was right, so after discussion, he kept it. That's also part of the editing process – because I'd tested his attachment to it, he was able to know that it was right for him. And because I work to "I suggest, you choose," once we'd had the conversation, I supported it from then on. 

Painless Poker is a brash book. It's a genre-breaking combination of poker instruction, autobiography, and fiction. The first sentence breaks convention as well. So it is a good reflection of the book to follow. 

"Don't even talk to me about how much it hurts" is bold, intimate, and divisive. It starts Painless Poker off with a jolt of connection and drama and perfectly suits the rest of the book. 

So I'll give Tommy's subconscious top credit for crafting a capital first sentence. 

Graphic design by Ken Silbert