Month: April 2012

bookmark_borderStill Editing, Sigh

Posted on by PaulaO

Well, I cut a big chunk out. Just under 4000 words. The story will survive without it but it still hurt.

The wordcount dipped quite a bit for a while but it now has grown back to over 98,000 words. It ended with 371 pages and is now 365. So, not too bad but there’s still time for me to kill it.

My goal is to finish the edits at no less than 95K. And to finish it soon. I’m pushing myself to get this done and submitted.

Not sure if I will be seeking beta readers or not.

Here’s some of what I cut. I may still use it, not sure.

The horticulture center used a combination of hydroponics and aquaculture to grow the plants. Basically this meant the plants were not in soil but in water. This water was filtered by live fish in a huge tank. Their water, containing all sorts of nutrients in the form of fish poop and a substance the fish produced from several glands located behind their gills, was sent to the plants. Basically. Julie could explain it much better but I was just in awe of the live fish. They were the size of an adult trout, but all similarities stopped there. Their scales were not flat against their bodies but protruded out and acted like cilia by assisting in propelling them through the water. They had fins that were as close to arms and hands as a fish could get, I suppose.

I knew Malons were vegans so I knew the fish were not eaten. However, Frankie didn’t know this or had forgotten. “What do they taste like?”

The horticulture specialist looked like Frankie had just asked her what her child tasted like. I started to explain but a voice came out over a speaker near the tank. “Friend, we are not consumable.”

We all just froze still in place. “Did that fish just speak?”

“No, I did.” One of them, the largest, swam to the end of the tank where we stood. The others arranged themselves behind him. Her. Whatever. “We are a sentient species and it is considered quite rude to consume a fellow explorer.”

(…)

“I apologize greatly for my error.” Frankie got down on her knees so she was even with the fish.

“Apology accepted. Put your hand in our water so that we may know you.”

Frankie, with only slight hesitation, stood on her tiptoes and put her hand in the water. The big fish and several others came up and, I guess, sniffed her hand. The others swam away but the big one suddenly bit Frankie’s pinkie finger. A large amount of blood could be seen in the water. Frankie grimaced but did not remove her hand.

“You are in us now. You are, in our ways, one of us.”

The horticulture specialist was again shocked but she had the presence of mind to have Frankie remove her hand and wrap it in a cloth. Mona tapped something on her device. “Interesting. They injected you with a numbing compound to help with the pain. I have instructed the nanites to regrow the tip of your finger. You will not feel it at all.”

Frankie’s eyes got real big. I don’t think she knew how much the fish had bitten. I think it was Mona’s calm that kept her from cussing up a blue streak. Instead, she started grinning and turned back to the tank. “So, how do I taste?”

If fish could laugh, these fish would have been rolling on the rocks. “To use a human phrase, you taste like chicken.” Once we stopped laughing, the fish invited us to come to the larger tank and swim with them. They promised to not bite anyone else. I think Frankie was going to take them up on the offer. The rest of us were not interested that much.

bookmark_borderStill Editing

Posted on by PaulaO

When I do the first round of edits, I basically am re-reading the thing. I take out what doesn’t belong (will it kill the story to have this out?) and add clarity where it is murky. I’m not looking for spelling errors or punctuation. That comes later. The hard part is not getting caught up in the story and forget what I am doing. That’s why I let them sit for a few weeks between saying The End and when I start the editing.

Editing To Sleep has so far been surprisingly easy. I already know what bits are getting cut. I haven’t gotten to that point yet. I am on page 22 of 371. And, surprisingly, the word count isn’t dropping. It is actually increasing. I find that odd. The beginning is actually the worst bit of the thing so that’s where a lot of hacking and slashing takes place. I’ve not done that yet.

Meanwhile, I am also still working in Harri’s story, Butch Girls: Stereotype This. It’s not pretty and I keep telling myself to just keep writing it and see what happens. So, I am. Little bits at a time. And it is interesting how it is going. My other attempts to write this had Harri and Liz (the romantic interest) always bickering and getting mad at each other. But this time they are both a little calmer and the conflicts Liz has is all in her head (as in she is thinking of it, not talking aloud about it). I hated the bickering so I’m glad that aspect is gone! Maybe that’s why they feel so flat.

bookmark_borderI Hate Editing, But….

Posted on by PaulaO

I do. But for some reason, I’m not as fearful of it as I have been in the past.

I started editing To Sleep (aka The Watchers) today. I just could not leave it alone any longer. I feel…alive with it. As if I am actually a writer.

Somewhere, before I started the edits, I gained over 500 words. So, I started the edits with a document of 100,858 words and, after several hours of editing (but only getting to page 13), it is 100,854 words. Ha. Take that, edit demon!

Alas, I am going to cut a huge chunk fairly soon so, I can only waller in it for so long.

bookmark_borderSomething to Think About

Posted on by PaulaO

Sometimes I find a blog post or article that says something I so desperately want to say. And they say it much better than I could ever do.

First, go read this post:
I’m Christian, unless you’re gay.

Check this out, and feel free to correct me if I get this wrong…

According to Christians, Jesus taught a couple of interesting things. First, “love one another.” Second, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” (“Her” being a woman who cheated on her man.)

According to Buddhists, Buddha taught a couple of thought-provoking things. First, “Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.” Second, “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.”

According to Hindus, a couple of fascinating teachings come to mind. First, “Do not get angry or harm any living creature, but be compassionate and gentle; show good will to all.” (Krishna) Second, “Love means giving selflessly, excluding none and including all.” (Rama)

According to Muslims, Muhammad taught a couple interesting things as well. First, “A true Muslim is the one who does not defame or abuse others; but the truly righteous becomes a refuge for humankind, their lives and their properties.” Second, “Do you love your creator? Love your fellow-beings first.”

According to Judaism, their scriptures teach a couple remarkable things. First, “Love your neighbor like yourself.” Second, “Examine the contents, not the bottle.”

The greatest spiritual leaders in history have all preached love for others as the basis for all happiness, and never did they accompany such mandates with a list of unlovable actions or deeds. They never said, love everybody except for the gays. Love everybody except for the homeless. Love everybody except for the drug users. Love everybody except for the gang members, or those covered in ink, or the spouse abusers. They didn’t tell us it was okay to love everybody with the exception of the “trailer trash,” those living in poverty, or the illegal immigrants. They didn’t tell us it was okay to love everybody except for our ex-lovers, our lovers’ ex lovers, or our ex-lovers’ lovers. The mandate was pretty damn clear, wasn’t it?

Then go read this one:
A Teen’s Brave Response to “I’m Christian, Unless You’re Gay”

I am the Christian mother of a 15 year old teenage boy and about a month ago he came home from school with a copy of your article “I’m Christian, unless you’re gay”. The teacher gave his class a homework assignment to read it and write a 500 word essay about “what it meant to them”.

He came home and showed me your article and asked me what I thought about it. I read just the title and became furious at his teacher and at you (even though I know you had nothing to do with her handing out the assignment). Anyway, I confiscated it from him and told him he wasn’t to do anything with it till I had a chance to read it first.

And then I got madder and madder as I read it as I felt like it was a direct attack against our beliefs and our Christian religion and that it was promoting homosexuality, a practice that around here is a huge “sin”.

I gave my son an earful about homosexuality and God and told him that he could tell his teacher that he would not be participating and if she had a problem, she could come talk to me and then I threw the article in the trash. My son didn’t say anything just walked into his room and shut the door.

Both posts are rather long. But bear through them to the end.

Now, sit back and THINK. Really really hard. THINK. Not just now, this moment, but always. Before you open your mouth, THINK. Before you gossip, THINK. Before you put down, speak against, say angry things, say bad things, say jokes that put down someone. THINK.

bookmark_borderSnippet of Humor

Posted on by PaulaO

First off, as I type this, it is 43 minutes into one of my most hated days of the year. I hate April 1st. I plan on doing a lot of nothing tomorrow. Today. Whatever. Luckily I have a partner who is not into practical jokes either so I don’t have to keep watching over my shoulder or doubting the truth of every statement she makes.

As much as I like humor, and I do like good practical jokes as long as no one is hurt or made to feel little, I’m just not good at setting them up. I don’t see far enough ahead to make it work. I admire the good ones that I have heard about over the years. Have me tell you the joke of the tomato aliens. Or the Volkswagon fuel mileage.

Anyway, I am doing some arranging of my current project. I realized I had the characters on different days doing the wrong thing. Like, Harri has three days pass while Liz only has one. Not good for the reader who would be wondering if they camped out up there or what?

As I fix the time line, I am reading over the story, laying out the plot, setting the characters up. I’m taking too long for the two of them to meet. Thing is, I need Liz to see something at Harri’s garage the first time she goes there but that something can’t be there until something else happens. See? Writing is hard. I actually have to THINK!

So, here, have fun with this whilst I pour water in my ear to cool off the seldom used gears.

“This weekend. Nikki’s going to help with her truck. I don’t have much stuff.” Harri shrugged. “But there’s the weights down in the basement. Kelly’s coming to help with that on Saturday. Once it is empty, we’ll finish putting up the drywall and she’ll paint this week as it fits in her schedule.” She rubbed her head. “I feel like my days are like that game in Cracker Barrel. Where you move one peg over another? Trying to get it all done.”

“Let Annette see any paperwork from the realtor before you sign. We want to make sure you aren’t getting screwed. She handles all our properties. Anyway, I need to get going. Call my office and let me know what time on Wednesday. After noon works best. Then you’ll come to Wednesday Dinner, right?”

“Yep. With bells on.”

Kaye groaned. “Not again. They’re so loud and it makes the dog bark.”