Editing, where to start?

Something that is very simple can be extremely hard to obtain.

A character that you've worked on for a year, more or less, may be lovable to you.

You might care for that character a lot.

You might have cried with that character during the dark moments.

You might have cheered for that character during the triumphant moments.

You might have felt satisfied for that character during the denouement.

But that doesn't mean that your reader, who knows nothing at the start of your story, will want to see your character through the events in your story.

That was one of the points given to me from a couple people who critiqued some of my first chapter before I started to edit it was that they didn't care.

What genre was it?

Contemporary Adventure?

They were confused about certain events.

This was, to say the least, painful for me to realize.

Like any other first writer completing her first novel, I didn't want to be shown the wrongs.

Yet I am starting to like these questions.

It is from those questions that I started to edit.

Story writing 101: 

Your reader should care about your character in some form.

Whether it is what your character is doing, or who your character is, your reader should care.

I had the problem with people not caring about my characters.

At all.

So, I worked on showing Kallie, MC, as a more likable human being.

Well, from some feedback, I have succeeded to a point.

Let's just say that I have a long way to go. . . 

Story Writing 101:

Make your genre obvious.

In my first draft, all I showed that it might be Science Fiction ish, was the hover cars and electric shock gloves.

It was not very believable, as well. 

I worked hard to include my genre, science fiction, in a believable and natural way. 

The house and appliances are something that can naturally show science fiction that I had originally over looked.

To say the least, it has improved.

I've been told that Kallie is more likable, and that they would like to read more.

What I would rather not look at is how it still needs improvement.

Evidently her parents now need more character development.

I need to rationalize why Kallie describes the blond woman as she does.

I need to work on describing more and slowing down a bit more at parts.

Description.

I love it.

But when it comes to writing a first draft, I tell instead of describing. 

Ouch.

Well, that's what happened.

I hope it helps others in some way.

Keep on Writing!

God Bless

SDG

Joy

Long Promised Part TWO

So I didn't get to this the last few days.

Ouch.

I really need to figure out a better way for doing this.

Here's Chapter One Part TWO!

~

~

~

~

~

 I turn abruptly and start running down the road.

“NO!”

I come into view of the house again to see a strange huver with tinted windows parked in front of the house; four people dressed in black, two dark haired, one blond, and one white, are standing in front. Both of the dark haired persons is holding dad to his knees, and the white haired one is holding mom.

The Blondie turns around as I come into sight. Blondie is a woman with a slight build, and that smile on her face isn't very welcoming.

“NO! KALLIE GO! RUN!” Mom screams, her voice already wearing out.

“Mom!” I hessitate.

“Kallie. Go.” Dad slowly turns his head towards me as he barks out his words. The side of his face that had been turned away from me is covered in a giant bruise, his lip is cut, and his eye is starting to swell. I take a step forward.

“KALLIE!” Mom's face is pleading with me. “GO!”

My mind reals as I start to slowly back peddle, my gaze still locked on dad's face.

Blondie shakes her head and hits dad across the face; he spits out blood at her.

Before I even realize what I've decided, I'm running towards them.

“STOP!” My throat screams in pain at the harsh vibrations emmonating from it.

The woman's mouth stretches into a malicious grin as she watches me come closer to her.

She reaches towards me and I stumble backwards, tripping over a fire hydrant. She jerks forwards and also stumbles, her hand touching some wet grass from a drip in the hydrant. I hear an electric sizzle; shock gloves. I've only heard of them before.

The woman stands up and yanks off her glove.

“Kallie! Go!” Dad yells; his jaw is clenched, and he is breathing in gasps of pain.

“Shut up.” The woman in front of me said, “I already said we want the girl, and have her we will.” She eyes me suspiciously, the wheels in her mind almost visibly turning.

My eyes narrow as I try to gather together my thoughts.

She lunges again and I roll to the side; my bag digs into my side.

Grasping at an idea I reach in and pull out the first thing I come to; my camera. I wince. I throw it at the nearest person; the one holding mom. The person, lady, holding mom turns mom around and the camera hits mom. I wince.

I somersault to a standing possition, trying to remember all the fighting information that I had looked up years ago. I'm an idiot.

I reach in my bag and this time I end up grabbing a pen. I click it open and get into what I think is a frightening stance.

“That won't work.” A harsh feminine voice I have yet to hear says.

I look up in surprise only to lock gazes with the white/blond woman holding mom. Half of her face is covered in some kind of black paint or seamless mask, making it hard to decipher what exactly she looks like other than her sharp blue-green eyes. Her eyes are laughing at me.

I growl in my throat and get ready to pounce. A hand grazes my arm as I jump. The hairs up and down my arm stand on end.

The black masked woman easily rolls out of the way.

The worst surge of panic I have ever felt rose in my chest.

“Kallie!” My mom cries out.

I turn around to find myself a foot away from blondie; she's completely lost her cool look and is now glaring at me.

I back away from the woman as a splitting pain for a slight second rips through my whole body. Crazy blondie is now looking at me with pure hatred.

Blue fabric suddenly envelopes me from the shoulders down. I struggle until I'm free.

Blondie lunges for me.

I scream and try to jump. My brain is foggy. I'm high in the air over Blondie, and I'm staying up.

Blondie takes out a gun-type device and points it at mom.

I scream. She fires. Mom falls silently. Dad screams and pulls like he's gone mad.

I lunge at the woman without thinking, barely noticing the bird shaped shadow below me.

A bolt of white lightning hits me hard, bringing me back down to earth. I lie on the ground gasping for breath.

A white owl has hit me. It changes into the masked woman who had been holding mom.

“NO!” Dad roars and struggles madly against the two men holding him. I've never seen him like this.

Blondie walks over to dad. She raises the gun in her hand, aims it at him, and fires.

I scream. I struggle against the woman on top of me and I scream.

The woman on top of me doesn't even flinch. I tear at her with my bare hands, but it doesn't help at all.

For a second the woman's grip loosens, and I free one arm. I almost touch mom's limp, outstretched arm.

Everything goes dark.

~

~

~

~

~
Chapter One, Part One

Again, it's only a second draft.

Comments are very much appreciated!

Keep on Writing

God Bless

SDG

Joy

As Long Promised. . .

I am a very stubborn girl.

As such, I have become frozen at the idea of sharing an actual story that I've completed.

I have, though, promised to share my novel Shadow Wings as I edit it.

I shall keep my promise.

I hope to blog later on what I was concentrating on when I was working on editing it.

Without further ado

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I give to you Shadow Wings, Chapter one, part one.

~

~

~

~

~

Chapter One

The sun streams in over my pillow as the curtains slowly rise.

“Time to get up.” The electronic alarm says by my head from its place on the bedside table. I groan and turn my head as I shield my eyes with my arm.

“Time to get up.” It repeats. Eight loud beeps sound by my ear, and I fling my pillow at it as I sit up. It stops. 

I groan and crumble back down, curling under my blankets.

“Time to get up.” It sounds again. I sit up and glare at it. The holographic image of an alarm clock with a cheerful face grins at me.

“Good to see your face,” It says before returning to its normal function of showing the time.

“Good to see yours too,” I snidly snap back.

I scoot off the bed and feel around with my feet for the slippers mom had bought for me last night. Finding them and slipping them on, I plod towards the bathroom that was across the hall.

I look into the mirror and groan. I look like a black haired Medusa. I angrily grab my hairbrush from the counter and attacked my hair with a vengence, ignoring the horrible sounds it is making. I need to look decent. I glare back at my image.

After completing my hygene, I return to my room and change into a pair of loose jeans and an old, faded blue t shirt.

I pause for a second outside of mom and dad's door; I can hear their uninteligible voices inside, arguing. Again.

I continue to the kitchen. What would they be fighting over this time? Staying here? Do they need to buy another car part? What could possibly be wrong again?

I open the fridge, the cool air brushing my face and sending shivers up and down my back. I grab a bowl of oatmeal that mom and I had made last night and put it on a warming plater. A touch pad pops up and I type in 'oatmeal, left over'. The pad slides down to its resting place and a glass shield, shaped like half a sphere, slides over. After a minute it rolls off revealing my oatmeal, all nice and piping hot.

Using some pot holders that were hanging by the stove, I pick up my oatmeal and place it on the table.

The muffled voices raise for a moment; I strain to hear them as I poor some milk into my bowl. They lower again, and I return to my food.

It doesn't take me long to finish eating. Standing up fast with my bowl and the carton of milk, I tip over the awkward kitchen chair. Mom's head peaks in seconds later as I try to juggle my dishes and pick up the metal chair with my foot. Her stormy eyes are giving away her excitement, even though her face is strait.

“You okay, honey?” Mom asks, obvieously hiding something behind the wall.

I nod and smile at her, all the while trying to not be obvious while glancing oddly at her.

“Okay. Can you please wash what's in the sink as well as your breakfast dishes?”

I nod again.

“Sure, Mom.”

She turns back around and walks back down the hall. Moments later the sound of arguing once again continues.

I turn to the sink; it's full of last night's dishes; we had chinese takeout.

It takes me a moment to figure out how to use the shiny high tech sink, but I have perfect warm and sudsy water soaking the dishes pretty quickly.

I splash the washcloth down into the water.

The cool autumn sun streams through the kitchen window, gleaming off of the dishwater. Voices rise again and I rub my forehead with my sudsy right hand. Why won't they ever stop?

They stop suddenly and I hear footsteps. I hurriedly scrub at the dishes in the sink.

“Kallie?”

I turn and face Dad.

“Yes Dad?”

“I- Well, we are-” Dad rubs his charcoal hair; it's becoming flecked with silver.

“We've decided to give you an early birthday present.” Mom calls out from their room, saving dad from anymore stuttering.

“Wait, what?” I turn completely around, feeling with my right hand for the towel.

“Well,” Dad scratchs his neck, “ We decided to give you an early birthday present.”

This doesn't sound right. As in, what?

“What?” I stare at him with my mouth still slightly open. Mom's head pops around the corner and she takes a picture of me before coming all the way into view.

“You heard him.” She said, looking at me accusingly. “Here.” She hands me the camera that she had just used.

It's a 2014 Cannon Digital, classic black and silver. It's a bit smudged, but that's to be expected from an antique.

“Thanks.” I stare at it then back up to mom and dad, my mouth unable to close all the way.

“Well, don't just stand there holding it. Go take some pictures!” Mom's grin is finally stretching from ear to ear as she takes away the towel that I have in my hand and pushes me back to my room.

I finally grin back before I run to my room. There, I sat down on my bed and scroll through the different settings, shutter speeds, filters, on and on. I spend a blissful half an hour in blessed solitude.

An ear splitting sound, something between a classic horn honk and an angry goose, comes in through the walls. I look out the window to see a neighbor pulling into his house next door in a brand new, super shiny huver car. I groan and turn away. Why oh why did we have to leave that house in Crawford, Minnesota?

The sunlight filters in through the light, summer curtains. I stare at it as it plays patterns on the rich, plain brown rug. I look outside again and grin.

The bus stop.

Yesterday, when we'd first arived, I'd noticed that by the bus stop was a small area full of trees with a little pond and one park bench. It seemed very out of place after seeing all of the tall city buildings, but it was still very quaint, even appearing beautiful, with the changing colors of the leaves. Basically a hidden park.

After digging around for a few minutes, I find my creativity bag with my creative journal and coloring pencils and pastels. Pausing for a minute by my semi-unpacked suit case, I quickly unbury one of my favorite sweaters and hurry down the hall.

I peer into the open door of my parents room, but it's empty. The bed nicely made, and everything. After a few minutes of searching, I find mom on the porch swing fiddling with a book.

“Mom?”

She looked up, her brow furrowing.

“Yes?”

“I'm going down to the bus stop to take some pictures.” I grin excitedly.

Mom tries to smile, but her eyes aren't in it.

“Well, um-” For once, mom isn't giving a straight answer. She looks over my shoulder as I feel the weight of a hand on my shoulder.

“We'd like it better if you stayed within sight.”

Dad's breath makes the loose whisps of my hair move. I turn and grin at him.

“I'm always careful, dad. Besides, I have the spray.” I open the flap of my bag to reveal a can of hornet spray. “I'm prepared.”

I turn and head down the porch steps.

“Be safe.” Mom says.

I turn and shake my head as I walk backwards.

“I'm prepared, Mom!” I wave and turn around, breathing in the sharp clean air.

Oh, the beauty of Autumn! The air, the colors, the crunching leaves. I stop my musing suddenly when I almost ran into a light post. Taking out my new camera, I started to capture the beautiful mixes of golds, browns, and greens of the trees changing colors.

“NO!” Mom's scream pierces the air like a knife.

~

~

~

~

The entire chapter is ten pages long, and I only posted five.

I'll post the second half tomorrow!

Promise.

Comments are gladly accepted!

Keep on Writing!

God Bless

SDG

Joy

Shadow Wings: A Late Night Update

Folks.

I have done it.

I HAVE EDITED THE FIRST CHAPTER.

And yes, it is better.

800 words longer.

The characters are more human.

Yes, it is better.

When shall I share it?

Hopefully by next weekend! 

Don't worry, I'll share it sometime soon!

The Lord is good!

ALL the time!

Keep on Writing!

God Bless

SDG

Joy

Update: Shadow Wings, Chapters One and Two

I want to dig a hole in the ground and hide. 

My second chapter is twice as long as the first chapter with over double the words. The charries all sound exactly as I thought they would, (though Akeem seems much prouder and quieter than he is in my head, go figure) and the story is running pretty smoothly. There are plenty of problems though. The tenses are off, the story is taking a completely different swing than I originally planned it too, and I'm not getting the sci fi stuff in it right! It's hard to describe and write the illusion of reality when you've never really come in contact with anything that is close to it. 

I've also edited the first chapter a lot. Tenses are right now my bane. 

First chapter word count: 998

Second chapter word count: 2,117

Total word count so far: 3,115

Update: Shadow Wings Chapter One

First draft done! 

It's bad. As in, I had my little sister read it, and she was clueless that it was even science fiction. Ouch. But I'm still going on, it's just a first draft. I'll be making lots of notes on it for what needs to be changed. Three pages long when double spaced, much shorter than I first imagined it. That too will probably be remedied when I start editing. . .

I'm not sure exactly what I expected when I first started writing this chapter. Oh, I suppose I WANTED perfection, for the words to just magically show what I saw in my mind,  but that is certainly not what happened. I'll push on, and hopefully I'll finally come up with something I'm willing to post on here.

Word count for chapter one: 923