Edit, Edit; Edit…

I want to start off apologizing for my hiatus. Life got crazy for a hot minute. Helped my brother move across state lines, spent time with family, and tried not to go crazy. (That last one took way more energy than it sounds.) At any rate, I’m back to reality, or at least trying to be.

During my mini vacation from real-life, I did have all of these grand plans to be productive with Sara’s Moon. The deadline of publishing by the end of July is fast approaching and time waits for no man. Alas, that is not what happened; I did however get sunburned.

So, here’s where we’re at:

Edits are happening; slowly, but surely. As a matter of fact, I just completed comparing auto-corrections between Word and Scrivener. (Really hoping the Scrivener update at the end of June, means I don’t have to have simultaneous windows open to accomplish this in the future.)

The design for the cover is fan-freaking-tastic! JJ’s Design & Creations has done a phenomenal job and I couldn’t be happier with the results. All responses from the inner-circle have been beyond impressed with demands for signed copies.

Back to editing again. I am waiting for a final referral for a professional editor and their sample before finally signing a contract. It wouldn’t seem like it, but an Editor does so much more than tell you that you forgot a coma–or that it shouldn’t be a coma in the first place. It is important to jive well, and helps if they already read the genre they are editing. Different rules apply and much like when you disagree with Word that “a short ways” is a real phrase and not spelled incorrectly, so too must your editor understand.

I would like to say that’s all for now, but I feel really bad. More than anything, I wish I could give you a short story to whet your appetite…but, yeah, that’s not gonna happen. So, in lieu of that, how about a few lines form Sara’s Moon?

I tried without success to quell the rising panic as I craned my neck to glimpse my potential assailant. When my eyes fell on the four-legged beast, I almost screamed anyway; it was pure terror that kept the reaction suppressed. Not ten feet away, was a very ragged, very large, canine. A vicious snarl warped its face; it looked rabid, and worse: it was looking at me like I was dinner. The vibrations of its growl caused the air to quake and the rest of me started shaking in response. All of the neighbors had long since retired. The quiet street was picturesque and completely devoid of life; even the breeze had mysteriously vanished. I was alone.