For over the last two weeks my edits/revisions have come along great. I have only 2 more chapters—one of which is almost done—to edit out of the 9 1/2 I needed to complete. I just added new content to one to to make it more suspenseful. The other one is a fight scene I’m planning on tweaking but haven’t decided how I want it to happen. Hopefully I’ll have both done within the next few days.
Next month I’ll be adding my 20 pages of notes, revising each chapter and adding them to one document for a beta reader. I’m super nervous but excited at the same time. Since I started my second draft I separated my chapters into their own document. So I’m excited to see if my word count of what was about 130,000 has gone up or down.
On another positive note I’ve been drawing some of my characters and they have come out a lot better than I expected. I may share them in the future when they’re complete.
My third excerpt is posted below. I’m still nervous about posting my work. But in a way I look forward to it because I read over it several times and edit it until I think it’s good enough for the public to read.
Valinia looked at the shelf where Roendriel had left the book. How could he have forgotten it ? Was it truly too gruesome to read as he had claimed? She walked towards it and stared down at the title less red cover. It wouldn’t hurt to look.
She cocked her head towards the doorway, her heart pounded against her ribs. He wasn’t there. Her hands inched towards the book and stopped for a moment as she rechecked again. Without another thought, she wrapped her moist palms around the edges and darted through the bookshelves towards the back door. She leaned against the wall and hugged the book close to her chest, shutting her eyes and holding her breath. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she listened for footsteps. None.
She exhaled, her heart rate returned to normal as she slide down the wall, onto the floor. Her fingers slide across the smooth cover and she opened to the first page. Black cursive writing adorned the pages slightly yellowed from age. It was more beautiful than any she had seen before, even her own which had received many compliments from Roendriel. He claimed his writing to be rather sloppy and at times not even he could read it.
Dated at the top was the year ‘4749.’ She flipped through the rest of the pages. It wasn’t a book—it was a diary over three thousand years old. The condition of it was near perfect: the cover smooth, without a single mark; and the pages had not the slightest smudge or speck of dirt. She quickly turned back to the first page and began to read.