A September Update on my Seam Keepers Rewrite:
My rewrite is rolling. For some reason it took all summer to get motivated, but now in September, I’ve been busy writing and revising in every spare pocket of time. I have moved the timing of the story a few weeks further ahead. This way my characters have already graduated high school. I hated thinking they might end up as drop-outs. I’m a teacher in my other life. I couldn’t have that. I’ve also been working more on my two main character’s arcs, developing them more richly. Or trying to, anyway. The pacing has intensified, as I’m writing in limited third person POV. Every place my characters felt themselves doing something – they experience the action first-hand now. Passive voice and telling are scary things that seep in when I’m not hyper-vigilant in my focus.
Writing a full novel is an enormous job, and I often want to quit. But this story has grown plump and it’s waiting for rebirth. I’m not in control anymore. Ashton and Mason are fighting for more than just the Dream Realm. They want to see the light of reality. They want to come alive in the reader’s mind. And I’m the only person that can make that happen. So, I will persevere…
Below are a few new paragraphs from random chapters in my book.
A few lines from Ashton’s perspective:
Graduating high school was supposed to be an achievement, not a sacrifice. Ashton had just lost both her parents, and now with the betrayal of her best friend… suddenly her senior year felt highjacked.
All three of them stood alive and well in her backyard. Blue and white party balloons announced their presence to the onlooking sunset. But the girl inside her outer shell felt no cheer in the moment, no joy in her accomplishment. There was no hope in her future, which now felt miserably lonelier than she’d ever imagined.
Her parents were not her parents. The truth of her adoption slipping their minds until a recent search for vaccination records proved more than her up-to-date inoculations. With no siblings to rant to, Mason was all she had left. And he had been enough since the day they’d met, all those years ago, even before his mother had died.
Until sixteen hours ago when he’d lied to her for the first time she could remember in their thirteen years of friendship.
I love this one about Mason:
Mason dropped his clothes into a pile on his bathroom floor. Steam rose from the shower behind him, but the water would never reach a temperature hot enough to clean the horror. To scrub the blood off his back, or from the insides of his elbows and behind his knees. He studied the drying bits of tarnished brown through the mirror, staring at the only evidence the living hell he’d just experienced was real. And with graduation hours away.
Well, I’m sure I will be revising more – it’s what I do now every time I turn around. But, that’s okay. This book may take forever to finish, but I will complete it. As I mentioned above, I don’t hold the reigns anymore.
My manuscript is undergoing a massive “Rewrite” – because I couldn’t help myself! So even the beginning (posted below) has changed quite dramatically. But, I’m learning as I go. More specific updates can be found on my Projects page. Check it out. And thanks for your patience and support. Please do check out my Colors Series on Channillo.com: https://channillo.com/series/colors/. This will encourage me as I work to complete Seam Keepers. And thank you to my sweet supporters and followers already. You make my day, every day!
A Poem for Ashton and Mason:
It is Time
Love spreads comfortable wings
around knowing hearts,
Secrets hopes wishes
upon stars lost, on course,
until time decides
it is time.
A little sneak peek at the beginning…
Ashton followed the line of her pencil, virtually moving on its own accord. She didn’t think when she sketched, her hand always doodled the same oak tree. The same knotted trunk bound to the other eleven, making its bulk unusually wide. But lately, as she drew in the oversized limbs, they seemed to flail in the illusion of air, wrestling something invisible. Something undrawn birds watched through shaded branches. Their songs a riddle about her future. Their glare a reminder. The one person always there for her would soon be gone.