Editing and Other Endeavors

Copy editing, like music theory is the mathematics of writing. But once it's done, your words will sing.

The dogs hadn’t stopped didn’t stop barking since. Tthree officers and a K-9 unit arrived with a German shepherd. They ransacked the trailer, upturned the couch and mattresses.

Accept changes. Move on.

SimmonsBrandt placed his hands on his gun belt. “The order came from Marion County. From the prosecutor’s office. It’s not even their jurisdiction.” Simmons placed his hands on his gun belt.

The news temporarily stunned Mark stiffened, his mouth hanging open. “Prosecutor Vaughan?”

Accept. Accept. Accept.

My editor sent his revisions a week ago. Now I’m looking at my manuscript through his eyes. And it’s so much better. My words make sense in a way I never thought possible. My characters are more vibrant. Details are consistent.

I didn’t realize I was doing little things to muddy the water. In my version, my character calls her aunt Auntie Beth, and sometimes Beth. Shifting between the two for no reason doesn’t help readers or my character. Another character calls his cousin Deputy, Deputy Simmons, and Brandt. Yikes. My usage of past perfect needed help too. I had written the story without using the correct verb tenses.

I like to call copy editing the mathematics of writing because it reminds me of music theory. Most people don’t need to know what makes up a V7 chord. They just know it sounds tense. They know the music can’t stop on that chord because it leads your ear and the music back home to tonic.

I lost you, didn’t I. I feel the same way about editing. I don’t need to know the logistics, but I want my words to sing on the pages. That’s why I hired an editor.

All the technical stuff aside. this is the final step in a 28 month process. It’s taken me 2+ years, 3 developmental editors, 5 drafts, 12 beta readers, and 85 agent and editor rejections to perfect this manuscript.

Forewarned: The summer of ’76 at Lake Carlson was beautiful new friends, drinking and drugs for 15-year-old Daphne. But when one of them turns the partying into a deadly game, she must follow her intuition to save a life.

Daphne is not excited to spend the summer of '76 at her family's cottage on a Northern Indiana lake. She is desperate to connect with people her own age. Last year, her best friend, Ruth, turned everyone against her. Freak. But Daphne knew what she saw in her premonition, and she warned Ruth not to go out on the ice. Her only solace is playing the piano and the old beat-up console at the lake house needs to be replaced. When they arrive, she has a sinking premonition that something terrible will happen.

Next door, Lewis and Lara Vaughan seem to have it all. Seventeen-year-old Lara has dreams of becoming an actress or model and her younger brother Lewis, is so cute. Lara is wild and fun. She introduces Daphne to the guy she’s dating, a man with a prison record. Daphne turns to weed to numb the prickly premonitions she has sometimes when she accidentally touches one of them. When Daphne learns Lara’s pregnant, no one, especially Lara’s father, a powerful and ambitious politician, can find out.

Mark Walters is a young local man with a score to settle. Seven years ago, a prison sentence took away high school graduation, his youth, and a sports scholarship. Lara’s father, Prosecutor John Vaughan wrongly convicted him of assault with the intent to kill. But now that the Vaughans are here for the summer, he sees a way to get even.

Daphne wants them so badly for the Vaughans to like her. Still, she won’t risk losing their friendship by telling them about her premonitions. Over the summer her visions intensify. She knows someone will drown. When Lara decides to have a big party, Daphne’s intuition fires up. She must warn her friends. The life she saves might be her own.

Now that Forewarned is done, I plan to pitch it to a few more publishers this year.

And while I wait, I’m writing book two.