Day 23: Outskirts

The fountain sat at the bottom of the valley, not too far from the temple of Avelot—barely a stone’s throw from their temple of Eponine. Shay dragged his feet after Lonan, but bounced the bucket between his knees with the ease only a young boy and diligent rock-climber could manage.

Writer Confessions 6

Digging through the fresh rubble that is my July draft, I find I have a lot of soul-searching to do. Most writers who edit their own work seem to. In the wake of the Nano writing bender, I offer you the frank confessions of a haggard writer-in-editing.

Editing: The Slasher Flick

I put on a clown mask. I pick up a knife; I rev the chainsaw. I develop an ominous, repetitive background track out of nowhere. I stake out the house with the lingerie-lounging babysitters, I lurk around the cabin with the campers magnetically repelled away from their safety in numbers, and stare in the windows of...