Snippet Sunday: September 27, 2015

Welcome to Snippet Sunday on Darkling Dreams!

Where writers come together to share a few sentences (8-10) of their current project — whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.

With this being the last week of September, this is going to be my last snippet from Rivers of Black. (Which I have talked myself into editing once more.) Next month, for Halloween, I am going to be switching to something a bit…spooky. He he he.

I am skipping ahead another few paragraphs from last week’s snippet. For all those dying to know what was coming next, you’re about to find out. To recap, my main character had been thinking about wanting to take her own life, but her fear of being found had stopped her. Now, she is out in the woods and has come across a sudden dark circle of wood that was not there before. Upon entering this eerie dark circle, she has stumbled onto a girl sitting on a rotten stump in the middle. A girl that was not there before, and my MC is now talking to this girl.

A bit of background on this story as well: This story is rather dark and depressing. It deals with a topic some people would be hesitant to read; which is self harm and suicide. I don’t sugarcoat this either, I write it raw on how someone in my character’s state feels. Just be forewarned with that. I hope it doesn’t deter you from reading, but I know others cannot deal reading these kinds of things. (There is really nothing bad to this snippet though, but it’s getting spooky.)

(The following has been creatively punctuated to fit the ten sentence limit.)

To help, this was the last line my MC asked the mystery girl:

“You thought what would be different here?”

—-

With pleading eyes she answered me in a sorrowful voice that seemed to float on the wind around me and come from all directions.

“It’s cruel here, isn’t it? In this dark place I live, a life among the dead where only pain is felt; I watch and I listen to those around me, but no one can hear me, no one can see me, it’s as if I am invisible. Nothing has changed from one existence to the other, I’m still a nobody: you, like everybody else, will not yet know what it is like in this dark place. It’s saddening and dreary to be among the dead just watching and listening, painful to watch your memory over and over again as it haunts you behind the curtains of your eyes. Wouldn’t you think so? I sit here and cry but no one ever pays any attention to little old me. I’m an outcast to you and to everybody that can see and hear my words, but of course you would never know what it is like yet in this cold dark place.

“Existence to you is different to me in this forest of decay. No light penetrates here, no light ever will.”

Cover made by @_teenagers on Wattpad

—-

And that is how I’m going to leave you guys with this story. I know, I’m evil, because you still don’t know who the girl is or what’s going on. Major cliffhanger. But… If you want to read the whole story and see how it ends, it is available to read on Wattpad! (Though I am in the slow process of editing it once more.) I love to hear any and all feedback on my work as well. Comments are greatly appreciated, as are the reads.

And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,

hop on over to Facebook and check out Sunday Snippets!

S.O.S! Please Send Energy!

I’ve had absolutely no energy or motivation the past couple days.

Work has killed me the past two weeks with barely any time off. And this week, and next week, isn’t going to be any easier. It’s been one sporadic day off here and there with long shifts and even back to back shifts that really kill me.

I have been drained in more ways than one lately. Mentally from everything going on, emotionally because things aren’t working out very easily and my temper is short, and physically because I am exhausted.

Last week I had finally managed to make that shopping trip for some editing things, but since then I haven’t made a move to work on it.

I’ve gotten myself back into writing more, at least. I was making headway on a 15k deficit. (At least, I think it was 15k before. I forget, the days are blurring together working so much.) Or, I was making headway until yesterday when work really left me drained.

I had gotten myself down to an 11k deficit, and even if I just held at that same deficit on the days I worked, I was happy. It meant I wasn’t falling any further behind.

Except, I was so tired that I didn’t get any writing done yesterday. Everything hurt, I couldn’t focus, I was just ready to collapse. Today I finally had a day off, and I’ve totally blew it.

I’m still exhausted, and being so drained gave me a headache for half of the day. I didn’t want to do any work or running around knowing work was just going to be the same thing the next couple days again.

So, it’s ten o’clock, and I’m only now sitting down to do some things. This post being one of them. I had wanted to get caught up on what is now a 12k deficit — and may be a 13k by the end of the night, depending on what happens. I had hoped for at least three or four thousand words today to put me into single digits on the deficit. I could have made up the rest and made goal for the month if I did that.

But now… I’m not so sure of what’s going to happen.

I hate when I do this, but I need more than one day off to have any motivation. Let alone to have the energy I need. Yeah, I know, I’m still young, I shouldn’t have a problem with that. But when you’re an introvert and you work in retail…

Ha! Forget having energy.

And in retail, from here on out is the holiday season. The madness of so many things going on at once, already getting ready for those Black Friday and Christmas shoppers, has begun. (I don’t want to hear one word about either of those holidays anytime soon!) The end of September, beginning of October is the start of it when things switch so quickly in the store and the amount of product we get becomes never ending. This year is going to be even harder on me since it’s my first holiday season as a manager.

I’m not looking forward to this. I wish I was back on freight crew, but I screwed myself there.

Needless to say, I’m hoping I get some things done bit by bit on the days I work, then hopefully have a productive day Friday when I’m off again. Although, I’ve got two long shifts in the next two days so I might be drained again.

Tomorrow is Mabon, though, so I’m hoping I have some energy for things. Plus, I want to stop at Michael’s and see what goodies they have up for Halloween. Maybe that’ll get my spirits and energy up. It normally does for this girl…

Snippet Sunday: September 20, 2015

Welcome to Snippet Sunday!

Where writers come together to share a few sentences (8-10) of their current project — whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.

For this month, I am going to continue on with my short paranormal story, Rivers of Black. A story which I am now in the process of editing again after I talked myself into it. Come October I am going to be switching to something different. (I think.)

I am skipping ahead a few paragraphs again from last week’s snippet. My main character had been thinking about wanting to take her own life, but her fear of being found had stopped her. Now, she is out in the woods and has come across a sudden dark circle of wood that was not there before. Upon entering this eerie dark circle, she has stumbled onto a girl sitting on a rotten stump in the middle. A girl that was not there before.

Also, the photograph that is mentioned is something described in the paragraphs I skipped. If you want the awesome description of it — I’m rather proud of it (Yeah, yeah, I know, don’t go boasting, Morgana.) — then you’ll have to go read on Wattpad. I know, I’m mean.

A bit of background on this story as well: This story is rather dark and depressing. It deals with a topic some people would be hesitant to read; which is self harm and suicide. I don’t sugarcoat this either, I write it raw on how someone in my character’s state feels. Just be forewarned with that. I hope it doesn’t deter you from reading, but I know others cannot deal reading these kinds of things. (There is really nothing bad to this snippet though, but it’s getting spooky.)

(The following has been creatively punctuated to fit the ten sentence limit. Okay, I lied, it’s two sentences over. I edited to the best I could to try to fit it. But it’s too good to cut any sentences.)

—-

I continued to stare at her, trying to discern how she had gotten here or how the forest had even changed so drastically when it was perfect before. The longer I stared at her, the more my eyes seemed to play tricks on me; every so often it seemed like the outline of her blurred and became fuzzy, like the static on a TV screen before you put a VHS in, and sometimes, it seemed as if I looked right through her. I blinked my eyes rapidly, slightly shaking my head to clear it, deciding that my eyes must be playing tricks on me.

Yet, something just wasn’t quite right about her, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t put my finger to it.

Crouching forward more I looked back to the photograph in her hand and contemplated on removing it from her to take a closer look and to possibly draw her attention to me. Tentatively I reached my hand out slightly as if to take it, but changed my mind at the last second thinking the better of it.

Easily I asked again in a calm soothing voice, “Why are you crying? Are you alright?”

A soft reply came from her lips, carried off by the wind battering around us before I could make out what she said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

Seconds went by before the girl replied once more, “I thought it would be different here…”

“You thought what would be different here?”

Cover made by @_teenagers on Wattpad

—-

Mwahahaha! Cliffhanger! If you want to read the whole story, it is available to read on Wattpad! (Though I am in the slow process of editing it once more.) I love to hear any and all feedback on my work as well. Comments are greatly appreciated, as are the reads.

And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,

hop on over to Facebook and check out Sunday Snippets!

Water Fairy (Wednesday Words 9.16.15)

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction prompt based off a photo. (I haven’t done one of these in ages.) So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

—-

Water Fairy

The rocks were slippery under the soles of my sandals as I hopped and fluttered from rock to rock. My butterfly shaped wings fluttered behind me to keep myself balanced, arms out to my sides.

I skipped from one stepping stone to the next across the green covered pond, bouncing upon each stone as I hummed a cheery melody to myself. I felt as if I was playing hop scotch with the stones, listening to the water birds chirping their tune along with me from their perches upon the rock structures around me.

Through the archway, I could see my little moss covered cottage. It looked rather bare yet on the outside, no water lilies or plants to adorn it just yet. I had only just received my wings, and my own cottage. Making it my own didn’t spring up overnight, unfortunately.

I smiled to myself.

Yes, my wings. The glittering pair of butterfly like wings that adorned my back now. A mixture of a green apple and baby blue color, creating swirling patters that shined and shimmered in the sunlight like glitter.

Of course, they weren’t shimmering now, however.

The day was overcast and the dense clouds obscured the bright sunshine, though once in a blue moon the rays of light would break through the clouds and beat off the pond, glistening with dew against the moss covered rocks.

This was home to me now.

Set in the middle of the greenery pond; moss covered everything and rock structures like caves and cliffs, carved into patterns of archways and peep holes. I was, after all, a water fairy. It was rather fitting to me.

What better place to have my cottage than upon a lake that spoke to my nature?

Then again, that was how it always was.

Upon acquiring one’s wings, they would find their cottage home, and begin their long awaited work of playing a guardian angel role to those in desperate need of a miracle. That was how it had been for hundreds of years, and how it would be for hundreds more I was sure.

Yet, I still did not have my role or purpose. I had graduated the academy and received my wings, but I was still without my purpose.

I was told I wasn’t likely to get one right away, not many fairies did. Still though, I had hoped I would be one of the few special ones that found their purpose right out of the academy. Wishful thinking of course, but a line of thought I couldn’t yet help.

A light breeze rippled the duckweed over the pond, billowing the straying strands of my reddish-brown hair. I sighed along with the breeze, feeling a bit disappointed. It had only been two weeks so far after graduating, but my anticipation was getting the best of me and spurring the want to have a purpose that much sooner.

“If only,” I sighed to the wind, pausing upon a stepping stone before the rock bed that kept my little cottage dry. I looked out over the pond, wondering yet what kind of fairy guardian I would make, and if I would be good at all.

The Struggles of a Night Owl

Yes, that is me. I am a total night owl.

Ever since I did an overnight freight job in retail, I have been an even bigger night owl.

Eleven at night is way too early to go to bed. Midnight is even too early. One a.m. even feels too early. But 2am… 2:30am… 3am… Now those are the times I finally feel like going to bed.

(Of course, this makes things difficult when I have to be up at seven or so in the morning for work, but on those nights I will tend to break pattern and go to bed at least around 2am, if not a bit earlier.)

You see, my problem with being a night owl is that it is the time I want to be active and get things done, but I kind of can’t. I am most focused at night. Once that clock hits maybe three or so in the afternoon, I start to get focused. But when seven at night starts to roll around, I’m my most active and focused from there all the way to whatever ungodly hour of the night I find myself up to.

(I have been up till sunrise before, if not pulled an all-nighter. If I didn’t have to worry about being up early enough to do other things before work shifts, I would probably stay up till sunrise every day.)

I love the night.

I want to write at night. I want to organize at night. I want to play music and sing along at night. Hell, I’d clean at night if I really wasn’t tired and was looking for something to do.

There’s just one major problem:

I can’t make noise at night or I wake up my entire household.

So I can’t play music unless it’s soft or I have headphones in from my computer — which limits my mobility if I’m organizing and they do not like to stay in my ears. I can’t sing along like I wish to unless I’m again soft. I can’t clean and make noise. I can’t spread my papers out to organize or write because there’s someone sleeping in the room with me where I would use the bed to spread out more.

I pretty much can’t do much of anything that I want to at night without risking waking grouchy people up.

So what else am I left to do?

Browse aimlessly through Facebook, Wattpad, and whatever else I feel like scrolling through? Play around with Photoshop for covers? Just go to bed early — what is early for me, that is — and then toss and turn half the night?

I’m pretty much screwed either way.

Of course, I could write. I could blog hop for Sunday Snippets. I could brainstorm and such. But again, I like to be spread out with my papers and mounds of stuff when I do that. That also makes noise as I flip through notes and type, though. (I’m apparently a loud typer according to my roommate, but I don’t think I am.)

So again, I have become limited on what I can do at night. And it makes me sad because I could knock so many things off my to-do lists. I could get so many pages and chapters written if I just was able to make noise. Or even if I just had my room to myself, then I could do all of that.

(Well, except cleaning and playing loud music. But I could still play it softly and sing softly then if I’d be alone in my room.)

Of course, I could also go to a different room at night. Except, where? I’d have to carry a mound of notebooks, papers, and/or binders with me. Something for music, headphones. Then my laptop and charger in case it starts to die. And moving all of that stuff is going to make noise.

Plus, I have nowhere to go. If I wandered downstairs, I’d be waking my dog up and then I’d have to let him out and hope he doesn’t start running around like a puppy on crack. And the only other room available to me is kind of cluttered and unusable to me.

So, I am stuck trying to work quietly in my room and hoping I don’t wake a grouchy person.

I think I need to start just flat out writing when a certain roommate heads to bed — that’s if I don’t get yelled at for my typing. Or maybe, I’ll sit here and write out my camping entries since I still have yet to write all five of them. That’s handwritten, not typed. I’ll make less noise. (Minus flipping through my notes for it.)

I think that might actually be my new plan. But there’s not guarantee at all what time I’ll be getting to bed then doing that.

I’ll bet… 4am? If not later. Whoops…

Snippet Sunday: September 13, 2015

Welcome to Snippet Sunday!

Where writers come together to share a few sentences (8-10) of their current project — whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.

For this month, I am going to continue on with my short paranormal story, Rivers of Black. A story which I am now in the process of editing again after I talked myself into it. Come October I am going to be switching to something different. (I think.)

I am skipping ahead a bit from last week’s snippet onto the next chapter. My main character had been thinking about wanting to take her own life, but her fear of being found had stopped her. Now, she is out in the woods and has come across a sudden dark circle of wood that was not there before. Upon entering this eerie dark circle, she has stumbled onto a girl sitting on a rotten stump in the middle. A girl that was not there before.

A bit of background on this story as well: This story is rather dark and depressing. It deals with a topic some people would be hesitant to read; which is self harm and suicide. I don’t sugarcoat this either, I write it raw on how someone in my character’s state feels. Just be forewarned with that. I hope it doesn’t deter you from reading, but I know others cannot deal reading these kinds of things. (There is really nothing bad to this snippet though, but it’s getting good.)

(The following has been creatively punctuated to fit the ten sentence limit.)

—-

She was sitting there crying on the ground, staring at the photograph in her palms; every few seconds she would shift the photograph from hand to hand, carefully holding it so as not to cover the person in it as she hastily wiped away at the tears streaming down her face.

But no matter how many times she wiped the tears away they just kept flowing, smudged with black eyeliner. Her tears left rivers down her face, like a black stream of decay in some far off dark forest; a place in total solitude from the rest of the world, where no light shone and nothing but death survived in the hollowness of trees and the silence of darkness.

A lot like the circle of darkness around me.

It was a dark and depressing scene I saw before me as I watched her cry black rivers down her cheeks; it felt even more depressing than my life at the moment.

I longed to reach out and give her a hug — a small reassuring gesture that could mean the difference between sadness and love, life and death — in hopes that I could dry up those dark rivers. But I didn’t for I wasn’t sure of myself…of her. Instead, I crossed the last few steps between us and knelt down beside her. Her tears and sorrow were tempting me to put a hand on her shoulder; but something told me that I shouldn’t, so I restrained from doing so.

In fact, I didn’t even know her, so why was I feeling this need to comfort her?

Cover made by @_teenagers on Wattpad

—-

If you want to read the whole story, it is available to read on Wattpad! (Though I am in the slow process of editing it once more.) I love to hear any and all feedback on my work as well. Comments are greatly appreciated, as are the reads.

And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,

hop on over to Facebook and check out Sunday Snippets!

Head Spinning

I’ve gotten absolutely nothing done the past four days.

Not a thing.

Not one.

Zilch.

Zero.

Big fat goose egg.

I’ve worked the worst shifts that don’t allow me to get anything done at home during those days. Not to mention, the awesome thunderstorm we had a few days ago knocked down two trees in my backyard, so I was busy helping to clean those up. One of those trees came scarily close to hitting my house.

So with that being the start of my crazy week, I’ve had no time to myself except these really late nights. (Which is why I’m cutting it close on a blog post today.)

I had wanted to have everything sorted and ready for editing Rivers of Black by now.

But nope.

That hasn’t happened.

I’ve at least got things semi-planned out in my head. I just want to see what I have here I want to use, and what I need to make a shopping run for. Which, I have no idea when that is going to happen.

Thursday is my only day off in which I can get things done, and I need to do laundry that day instead. Unless I go shopping early, then come home to work and do laundry… I really don’t want to though. I had hoped to get that little trip done before Friday so I had something I could do this weekend on my last trip, but…

Now I’m not sure that’s going to happen.

(Although, I really should use that time to write those camping entries instead…)

Needless to say, my week has been shot so far. And work hasn’t made things easy since it’s a busy week there, too. My head is spinning from it all, and I’m sore and exhausted.

Better yet, I feel like a chicken running around without a head this week.

And it’s only Tuesday!

Good grief. I feel like it should at least be Thursday already.

Is there a way to make time spin faster so I get a chance to get things done on my days off? Spin kind of like what my head is doing lately.

No?

Damn.

Snippet Sunday: September 6, 2015

Welcome to Snippet Sunday!

Where writers come together to share a few sentences (8-10) of their current project — whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.

Welcome to September! For this month, I am going to continue on with my short paranormal story, Rivers of Black. A story which I am now in the process of editing again after I talked myself into it last week. Come October I am going to be switching to something different.

Picking up right where I left off from last week’s snippet. My main character had been thinking about wanting to take her own life, but her fear of being found had stopped her. Now, she is out wandering the woods, looking for no place in particular that would be her place to sit in peace at last, coming across an old, scarred, and battered oak tree. Now that tree has shown it’s own desolation and deterioration to mother nature and my MC is spiraling into despair. She is just about to go through with the deed and take her own life, when she discovers an odd dark circle that wasn’t there before.

A bit of background on this story as well: This story is rather dark and depressing. It deals with a topic some people would be hesitant to read; which is self harm and suicide. I don’t sugarcoat this either, I write it raw on how someone in my character’s state feels. Just be forewarned with that. I hope it doesn’t deter you from reading, but I know others cannot deal reading these kinds of things. (There is really nothing bad to this snippet though, but it’s getting good.)

(The following has been creatively punctuated to fit the ten sentence limit.)

—-

I backed away from the circle, but instantly stopped once more — curiosity was overcoming my shock. Another blast of cold wind blew by me and I closed my eyes against the wintery assault.

Along the wind came a soft voice, barely audible: “Come closer,” it seemed to say.

Panic coursed through me now, afraid that I was hallucinating or something was terribly wrong. My legs twitched to run far away from the strange circle, but something kept me rooted to the spot; something felt like it was calling me, pulling me closer to the darkness, tempting me to step inside. My feet carried me towards the darkness before my brain even registered what I was doing.

Warning bells sounded off once more in my head before I passed out of the sunshine and into the darkness.

The first thing I felt was a complete coldness spreading through me, like someone had dumped me in a frozen lake. The air around me was stale and suffocating making it hard to breathe, and despair and terror descended on me as the darkness seemed to get thicker, closing in on me as if it was tangible. The little light that there was seemed to disappear into thin air, leaving nothing but blackness.

Cover made by @_teenagers on Wattpad

—-

If you want to read the whole story, it is available to read on Wattpad! (Though, as I said above, I am editing it again.) I love to hear any and all feedback on my work as well. Comments are greatly appreciated, as are the reads.

And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,

hop on over to Facebook and check out Sunday Snippets!

Plotting, Editing, and A…Seductress?

I am not sure what happened to me the past three days.

I had three days off again, surprisingly. Unlike last week when I had this time off, I haven’t really gotten anything done.

Granted, I did catch up on Sunday Snippets so I’m all set there. And I did get organized once more. And…

Crap, I think that is all I’ve done.

Well, I did do a bit of writing. Part of it was me just plotting and playing out scenes in my head that may or may not end up being parts to Darkness Becomes Her. If they are used, it won’t be till some of the very last books which is wayyyy down the line here.

Let’s just say I’ve got multiple directions that I want to take to get there. At least three awesome plots that I want to use but kind of…clash with each other in a small way. I need to find a way to work them out together.

That’s for later though.

In other news, I’ve started to plan out my editing for Rivers of Black.

I’ve got the story printed and I’ve got a rough idea of how I want to go about this, but I need a little more organization before I tackle it. I had meant to write a journal entry to myself two days ago or so to sort out my thoughts on this, but didn’t get around to it.

Instead, I ended up writing said entry on plotting out wannabe scenes for Darkness Becomes Her. When I say wannabe scenes, they are more like flashes of the scene, the important things.

To put even more on my plate, someone (*Cough cough* P.T. *Cough*) shared a picture to Facebook that spawned an unwanted plot bunny last night. Well, said picture that looked like some sort of elaborate torture room, plus me listening to the song Dance With The Devil by Breaking Benjamin, is what really spawned the plot bunny out of control.

(For those that don’t know the song…)

And, actually, spawned is a rather appropriate word for what happened. That picture put the image of a rather shapely woman in a red dress in the room. Which then turned into her being a seductress once the song came on, which then spiraled into that room being near non-existent and now I’m currently watching said woman dancing around with the Devil in Hell at some ball.

I have absolutely no idea where any of this came from, but boy did my brain run with it.

It’s not even what I should be working on. I should be writing Darkness Becomes Her, not this Seductress thing. Which, really, it’s not even something I normally write. I mean, sure, it’s got the fantasy element and the dark nature to it seeing as it’s set in Hell.

But a seductress?

No idea what dug that up in my mind.

It’s proving to be interesting though so I’m going to keep running away with it and see where it leads me. I get the feeling I might have another novel in the works on my hands now. That makes…four. (I’m counting the DH series as one novel, even though it’s going to be at least five I’m thinking.) Plus whatever else is still brewing upstairs that has yet to reveal itself to me.

Good grief.

I work the next five days in a row, too. Most of them being long hours so my days are about to be shot in getting anything done. Then I get one day off, then I’ll be gone for three days again.

For the next…week and a half about I’m going to be scrambling on time. I’m attempting to keep up with the 1k-A-Day Challenge once more, and so far I’m only a little over 1k behind. Which, depending what I do the rest of the day today, I might be able to get ahead a bit.

The next week and a half (maybe more depending what my work schedule is after I come back) is going to be a test of how determined I can be.

Guess I better head back to the plotting, organizing, writing, and editing board then, shouldn’t I?

Let’s Talk Editing

For the past two months I have been sharing Sunday Snippets from my short paranormal story Rivers of Black.

The more and more I have shared from it, the more I have realized skimming through the Word doc for my snippets, that I could make the story even better by running another edit of it.

It would be the third or fourth edit, I think.

I’ve come to the point where not running another edit of it is going to irk me. I already have the story posted to Wattpad, but now I wonder if I edited it, if it would be viewed a bit more.

So, needless to say, I have talked myself into running another edit of the story.

My only problem?

I want to do it differently from how I have been editing. Since I’ve gotten into writing more and more, I’ve come to find my old way of editing may not be the best approach.

(My old method was simply reading through the Word doc and editing it right from there. No red pen, no printing out, no seeing it in my hands, etc. etc.)

I’m thinking that if I tried a different way, I might be able to edit better. It’s been a long time since I’ve worked on this story so it isn’t fresh in my mind, either. Except for skimming through for Sunday Snippets, I haven’t read through it or looked at it much in months.

So remembering exactly what I wrote and then missing an actual mistake of what I did write instead won’t be an issue either.

Now comes my conundrum.

How do I want to go about editing this?

I’ve heard suggestions on how others edit, and I have some of my own ideas, but I know there’s many different methods out there.

I am quite sure I am going to print it out to edit this time. (It’s not too long so I could print it myself without using an arm load of ink and paper.) And I might print or refer to my Sunday Snippets as I did minor edits within them as I shared the snippets. Not too sure yet, might be easiest to print those as well. I also bought a pack of colored pens for editing a couple months ago, but have yet to determine how I am using them.

(Never know when you’ll need the supplies. I’ve come to find authors are stationary supplies hoarders. I’m definitely proof of that. It’s amazing how many notebooks, binders, pens, mechanical pencils, etc. etc. I have.)

This all leads me to my question:

How do you edit? What do you find are the best methods that work for you? I’m looking for any and all suggestions on how others edit, so that I may get an idea of what may or may not work for me.

Now, I know everyone is different and different methods work better for each individual, but I have to find somewhere to start, right?

So, how do you edit?