Editing and a New Chapter One

Quite a while ago on my Facebook page, I mentioned a few writing books I like, and The Story Grid by Shawn Coyne was one of them- it was what I was reading when I finally was able to figure out “how” to write Rescue. Once I started working on the story, I won’t lie- I didn’t finish reading the book. I kind of forgot about it, actually. Now that I’ve finished the first draft of Rescue, it’s time to start thinking about the next story to write, so I opened up The Story Grid again to guide some (basic) outlines of some of my other stories.

Lo and behold, right where I had left off was exactly where the book starts going through the editing process the author uses! I forgot about that part of the book lol. So now I am trying out that process to edit Rescue, and I’ll also be going back in the book to work on some outlines for new stories, like I had planned.

Right now, I’m doing the “big picture” editing: making sure there aren’t any plot holes, that everything gets resolved by the end of the story, making sure the characters develop, ensuring continuity…Using The Story Grid method, I’ve just made a list of every scene in the story and its word count, and I’m working on doing a short description of each scene. Next, I’ll be going through and analyzing the scenes (feel free to start a drinking game & do a shot every time I write the word “scene”...anyone have a thesaurus?) to see if they are necessary and move the story forward. Will the goose attacks make it to the next round?

What I’m struggling with, though, is that Coyne says NOT to worry about re-writing anything yet. He says to turn off the creative part of your brain and turn on the analytical part, which honestly, is goddamn near impossible for me. The analytical section of my brain is tiny compared to the creative part lol. I am trying hard, though- I want to do a good job at this, as I’m not sure how much money I will have to put towards any professional edits. I DO think it’s super important to hire a professional, at least for line edits and proofreading, but I also think not being able to afford them shouldn’t keep a person from publishing their book. It just means they’ll have to work extra hard to learn editing skills, if they don’t have them already.

But, because I’m terrible at following directions, I already have a brand-new version of chapter one written! It’s quite a bit different from the original, and it also will need some tweaking. I think it gets the story going a little quicker than the first try. We’ll see how it goes, anyway.

Chapter One

Paige Brandt woke tangled in the blankets, drenched with sweat and panting. For a moment, she worried her boyfriend, Stephen Clark, would be angry she was hogging the blankets and kicking. Then she realized he wasn’t in the bed with her anyway, and she didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed.

She shuddered, remembering she’d been having an awful nightmare about a horse trapped in a stall that was burning around it. She could still hear the horse’s hooves pounding against the door, trying to break free…

Wait, that’s the door, Paige thought, and her stomach tightened. The clock on Stephen’s side of the bed said two-thirty a.m.

She worked her way out of the mass of blankets and wiped her face with the sheet. The pounding continued as she pulled on a t-shirt and pajama pants she found on the floor. She stumbled out of the room, glancing at the couch where she expected Stephen to be sleeping, since he wasn’t in bed with her. Over the last few months, he’d been spending more and more nights falling asleep in front of the TV and never making it in to bed with her.

The couch was empty, the TV off.

Paige’s stomach dropped. If he wasn’t in bed, and he wasn’t on the couch, where was he? There were no sounds in the apartment other than the banging on the door, and the bathroom was dark.

Paige reached the door, her stomach rolling with dread. She turned on the light and peeked through the peephole to see a police officer standing at the door, raising her hand to knock again.

Paige’s vision started to swim. She managed to unlock the door and swing it open, but she felt her body sway.

“Are you okay, Paige?” The police officer, Tracy Moore, had showed reining horses with her when they were teenagers. She reached out to steady Paige. “Maybe you should sit down for a second.”

Paige sucked in a breath, but it felt like she couldn’t get enough air. Gray spots seemed to flash in front of her eyes. If the officer wanted her to sit down, she must be there to tell her bad news. What if Stephen was in an accident? Vaguely, she heard other voices out in the hall, and heavy footsteps. A more people in uniforms went by, but they weren’t police uniforms.

“Here, let’s get you over to the table.”

The police officer- Paige thought her name was Tracy- took her arm gently and led her over to the kitchen table. She pulled the chair out for Paige and helped her sit down. Paige sucked in another breath. She heard a scrape as Tracy pulled out the chair across from her and settled in. Her head started to clear slightly, and she tried to pull herself together for the officer’s news.

“Oh, shoot- I’m sorry,” Tracy murmured. “I’ll just keep you a couple minutes, okay? I didn’t know you were having a tough night already.”

“Huh?” Paige asked dumbly. How would Tracy know about the nightmare?

She opened her eyes and looked over at Tracy, who glanced down at the table. Paige followed her gaze to a note sitting in front of Stephen’s usual place.

Paige- I’ve been doing some thinking, and it would be best if we saw other people. I’m going to Lesley’s tonight. I’ll be back sometime for my things.

Stephen

P.S.- It’s really fucking weird you think you can talk to animals. Get over it.

Paige looked up at Tracy, horrified. She blinked hard, trying to keep tears from welling up. It didn’t work. Tracy reached over and patted her hand.

“Shit, you’re just seeing this now, too,” she said. “I just need to ask you a couple questions about your neighbors, and I’ll be out of your hair, okay? Do you need a few minutes? I can talk to your other neighbors first.”

“How could he,” Paige croaked. “I-I did everything for him.” The ‘him’ came out as a loud sob. Sixteen years of her life doing everything she could to make Stephen happy- although nothing seemed good enough for him- and he ended up with Lesley Davis. “Lesley dumped him on prom night,” she added to Tracy, who nodded solemnly.

“If it makes you feel better, he’s an idiot,” Tracy agreed.

“It doesn’t, but thanks anyway.”

“I’ll come back.”

“No, that’s okay.” Paige scrubbed at her eyes with her knuckled and swallowed down the sob that was trying to escape. She was suddenly aware of a lot of flashing lights outside her apartment window. “What’s going on?”

“A call came in that your neighbors were unresponsive, and when the paramedics got there, they found them deceased. It doesn’t look like there’s been any foul play, but it does appear they were dead for a couple days.” Tracy paused a moment for Paige to let it sink in.

“That’s awful,” Paige replied, although she wasn’t entirely surprised. She didn’t know her neighbors beyond their names and to say “hi” to them in the hall, but she heard rumors they were heavy drug users. “Is their daughter okay?”

Tracy frowned. “Daughter? There was no sign of a child living there.”

“Oh.” Paige wondered when she’d last seen the little girl. She couldn’t remember. “Maybe she went to live with a relative, or maybe child services intervened?” she suggested.

“I hope so,” Tracy said grimly. “That apartment wasn’t fit to live in. Odd that they didn’t keep any of her pictures around, though.” She scribbled notes in her book. “I don’t have a lot of questions. I was mostly wondering if you’d heard anything unusual from their apartment in the last few days?”

Paige shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything, but to be honest, everyone in the building makes so much noise, I usually tune it out.”

“Did you ever hear the next door neighbors arguing or anything?”

“No more than they would’ve heard Stephen and I.” She bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

“Have you noticed people coming and going from the apartment much?”

“In the last couple days, or always?”

“Whichever.”

“They seemed to have a lot of people in and out all the time. I heard rumors they sold drugs as well as used them.”

Tracy nodded. “We’ve heard the same rumors.” Tracy reached into the breast pocket of her shirt and pulled out a business card. “If you think of anything, let me know, okay? Like I said, it’s not suspicious, although I’m a bit concerned about there being a child unaccounted for.” She stood up and pushed her chair in. “And I’m sorry about your news tonight. I know we kind of lost touch since you stopped riding, but if you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you,” Paige said, standing up to walk Tracey to the door.

As Tracey stepped out of the apartment, Paige said, “I don’t know if you’re allowed, but if you find out anything about the little girl, could you let me know? I’d like to know if she’s all right.”

Tracy flashed a tight smile. “I’ll see what I can do. Talk to you soon- hopefully sooner than eighteen or nineteen years.”

Paige waved, shuddering as a uniformed man pushed a gurney with a body covered in a sheet down the hall. She quickly shut the door and locked it. Then she thought of the note on the table again, and the sob she’d been trying so hard to hold back broke free. Her legs weakened and she dropped to the floor. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the cool tile, and sobbed until she passed out.