Once You Reach The Edge He Urges You Close. You Look Over And Gasp. Theres A Huge Trench Right Inside

Once you reach the edge he urges you close. You look over and gasp. There’s a huge trench right inside the wall, full of men, women, and children, presumably werewolves. The inside edges of the trench are lined with stairs and thin pathways, houses dug into the side of them. The adults are all at the bottom, digging.The dirt is loaded into carts that are taken in underground tunnels further into the city. The city itself is massive, past the trench are houses upon houses. They’re shabby and broken up, you can tell even from the height you’re at. People, the size of ants, bustle around. Most seem to be working. Some building houses, some draggin carts in and out of tunnels, Some collecting those dead or sick off the streets. Your lips twist at that sight. The middle of the city is full of farmland, better looking, though still small, houses dotted everywhere. They seem to have an abundance of food, they’re not lacking in work, why are they all dying? You decide it’s probably from overcrowding. Though the city is big, the infection is bigger. It has spread all across the world. It’s so thick, even in just the seven cities that send their wolves here, that there’s simply no room. Streets are small, houses crammed everywhere, new ones constantly being built, and children are continuously being born. With a city so big, it simply would be unrealistic to think no one would have kids and, unfortunately, some species of werewolves have litters. Children run everywhere, playing, working, and dying. Even with them being so small, you can see their bad condition. Their clothes are poor too. Almost all of the children are naked, and some of the adults. Those who do have clothes look as though they’ve been wearing the clothes they were brought in since they got there, have hand made clothes, or have rags that barely cover them. You squint and lean further out, struggling to see. Are they all… Starving? You jerk back and look at Jr. He’s watching you. You point out to the farms, “They have an abundance of food! Why are they so thin?” Jr sighs, “The food isn’t for them. They’re given rations according to where they work. All the food they grow is shipped out and sold. They’re given the leftover. The stuff no one wants.” Your lips twist, “I don’t believe you.”

Jr’s home is very large and very nice, as expected from someone as powerful as his dad. Everything is in pristine condition. It’s almost uncomfortable how perfect everything is. In each room you pass, there’s at least one bell, sitting on a small table. Jr and his family go to the living room and you follow. His mother sits on the edge of the couch. His father stays standing. Jr sits comfortably on a different couch and pats the seat beside him. You go and sit by him. He leans back, pulling his feet under him. It’s such a comfortable and vulnerable position, you almost feel like you should look away. Surely you shouldn’t be seeing Jr like this, who always acted strong and cold? Surely he’d be embarrassed? But he doesn’t seem embarrassed at all. He watches you, unblinking. You sit awkwardly until he breaks the silence, “I guess you decided I wasn’t HORRIBLE… For a monster?” Immediately you want to slap him. Arrogant little prick! You JUST got out and you’re ALREADY trying to provoke me? But you smile a little anyway, “I…  Haven’t decided yet…” You shrug and look at the floor nervously. Really, if you’re honest with yourself, you have. But you’re not confident enough to admit it yet... He watches you. You don’t look up to see him, but you can feel his eyes burning into you. “Then why’d you wait for me? Why’d you send me messages? Why’d you bring Sam to me?” You look up, “His name’s Sam?” He blinks, then shrugs, “Yeah…” You frown, “Oh… I’ve known him for so long and never even thought of asking his name…” Jr smirks, “Well you ARE a little scatterbrained…” You glare, “You literally JUST got out and you’re already being a jerk…”

You glare, “Shut up,” but can’t stop yourself from hugging him. He stiffens, but then wraps his arms around you, “Wow I never thought I’d miss such a little brat so much…” You laugh, but it’s a little strangled as tears pour down your cheeks. Jr holds you for a little while, letting you cry, then pulls you gently off him, laughing, “You’re getting my shirt all wet…” You laugh too, “Sorry…” You sniff, “I’m so glad you’re ok…” Jr laughs, “Me too…” You wipe your eyes and laugh again, relief making you light hearted. Jr’s dad clears his throat. Jr looks at him, “Can she come in?” His dad glares, “You want me to let a STRANGER in MY house?” Jr glares, “Yes. She’s a friend of mine. I trust her.” His dad snaps, “You know what trust does? It gets you killed…” Jr snaps back, “Yeah? And what about YOUR friends? Do they just NOT COUNT?” The door opens and you jump, looking over at it. A woman walks out. She has black hair with purple streaks and a cold expression. You shrink a little. Somehow, she’s scarier than Jr’s dad. She glances at you, then Jr, “Jr, honey, what’s going on?” Honey doesn’t sound very friendly coming off her tongue… Jr shrinks a little, “I… Wanted to let my friend in…” She gives you a once over. Unspoken words sear your tongue. Maybe if you were braver you would say something. But you're not, so you stand muted, just staring at her. She turns back to Jr, “Why? You’ve seen her already. You’re not THAT close are you?” Jr studies the ground, “No… But I haven’t seen her in a long time. She probably has a lot of questions…” Oh yes you do… A LOT. Like how did his dad manage to get him out of there? And how does he stand his mom? Suddenly, him being such a jerk makes a little more sense… His mom laughs, “Questions about what? Son?” But son sounds like an insult, and now you’re getting angry. Jr looks up, glaring at his mom, “Like EVERYTHING. We haven’t seen each other in MONTHS! I haven’t seen YOU in months! Does the first interaction we have HAVE to be a fight?!” His mom softens, “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let her in.” His dad looks at her, “WHAT?” She glares, “I said 'let her in'.” His dad frowns a little, but shrugs, “Alright…” ‘Nice to know who’s in charge here…’ You think to yourself as you walk in.

A week. You don’t see Jr or his brother for a week. You’re feeling like you’re about to lose your mind when you finally see him. Sam is walking to school, practically glowing. You run up to him, “Hey! You’re finally back! I thought I was gonna die of boredom!” He laughs and shrugs, grinning shyly. You can’t help but laugh at that, he’s so shy. It’s sweet. Then you notice a bruise on his neck. It disappears under his shirt collar. You frown, “What’s that?” He reaches up self consciously and rubs it, then, realizing what it is, covers it, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it…” You frown, “Don’t worry about it? You’re bruised… Did…” You lower your voice, “Did your mom hit you?” You know his mom is fiery, and very possibly capable of hitting her sons…. The bruise looked pretty bad, from what you saw. It was very dark. Sam shakes his head quickly, “N-no! It’s…. Nothing…. I said don’t worry about it….” You frown deeper, “I can’t just not worry about it. I’m your friend. Is someone hurting you?” He snorts. It almost seems like…. A laugh? But he composes himself quickly, “I said I’m fine. Stop worrying.” You glare, “I just said I won’t! And why are you laughing at me?!” He shrugs, “You’re just cute when you’re mad…” You groan, “You’re just like Jr! How did I ever think you were nice?! Why do I even hang out with you?! You’re such a brat!” This manages to break a grin from him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him grin. He’s always so shy. But he seems to be in a very good mood today… Duh. He just got his brother back from Werewolf Hell…. You glare, “You have nothing to say to that? No defence? No snarky comment?” He shrugs, “I’ve never once claimed not to be a brat. Come on. We’re late for school.” You glare, “Oh really? So that matters now? You’re dodging the conversation.” He nods, “I am,” and walks past, heading for school. You hurry after him, cursing quietly under your breath. Why do your friends have to be the full of themselves, snobby, brats? Why can’t you just have NORMAL friends? You sigh. You’ve pretty much resigned yourself to your fate… There’s no escaping it, so you might as well get used to it…

You walk home from school. Your mind is dull, tired. It’s been two weeks. Nothing. No plan, no sudden epiphany, nothing. If only you were stronger. If only some sudden power would show up. And then what? You’d break him out? Run away? You’d be fugitives forever. Both your futures would be ruined. Somehow, you don’t think Jr would thank you… You suppose it doesn’t matter though, since you don’t have any powers to speak of. Jr’s brother comes up, startling you. He had missed a week of school, and then you had avoided him. You were too ashamed to face him. Too afraid. That makes you want to cry all over again. Why are you SO WEAK? You have no powers, no will, you’re even too much of a coward to face Jr’s brother… Frustration builds in you and you want to scream. If only you were a superhero. If only you were braver. If only you were smarter. But you're not. You're just a little girl, too weak and scared and stupid to do anything. “I want to go see him.” Jr’s brother’s words break you out of your thoughts, “What?” You stare in disbelief. “Jr. I want to go see him. I want you to come with me.” You laugh, but break it off quickly, “You CANNOT go out there. You’re a werewolf too. I’m not having you thrown in there-” “I’m not.” “What?" You blink, “What do you mean?” “I’m not a werewolf.” You roll your eyes, “Yes you are. Jr’s a werewolf. You’re his brother. It runs in the- Did he get bit?” He hesitates, then nods, “Yeah. Yeah he did. When he was young, still a kid. It almost killed him… I think dad was hoping he would die…” Your lips twist, “That’s awful…” He shrugged, “Is it? At least he wouldn’t be stuck down there if he had…” You frown, “Do you wish he had died?” His eyes widen, “No! No, of course not. I’m just… I don’t know. Let’s go.” You shake your head, “We can’t get in. They watch the inner walls VERY strictly. The furthest we can go is on the wall…” “Then I want on the wall…” You shake your head, “We can’t…” His glare is so intense it scares you, “YOU were with him! YOU were there! YOU did nothing! You OWE ME!” You flinch, heart sinking because... You do. You do owe him. It is your fault… You sigh, “Ok… But I can only take you TO the wall. We were on the wall and… Fell…” His eyes widen. You continue “So they’ll be watching that part carefully. I don’t know where the blind spots are and I can’t climb that wall…” He nods, “I only need as far as the wall…” You frown, “You really don’t know where it is? Everyone knows where it is…” He blushes, “I’ve… Never left the city… And I’ve never been curious about it…” You shake your head. You would think, with his brother being so into all that, he would at least know where the GIANT CITY FULL OF HOWLING WOLVES IS… Oh well. You take him, just like you said you would. The walk is long and awkward. You don’t know what to say, and he’s quiet anyway. You open your mouth many times to start a conversation. But how can you? After getting his brother put in Hell, you really have no right to speak to him at all. So you walk in silence. When you finally get there, you zigzag through there blind spots, just like Jr. had showed you. His brother follows. He seems to be fairly adept at sneaking… This worries you a little. What does he do to be that good at being sneaky? You reach the wall and look at him. Then your jaw drops. Feathers are springing up on his face and neck. “Wait for me…” And then he’s a blue jay, flying up the wall.

I just finished my first novel! The feeling is indescribable. Do you have any advice on editing, big or small?

Dear fate-and-chance,

Congratulations on joining THE ENDTIMES CLUB. 

Editing is basically the place the novels become novels — it’s impossible to overstate how the rough draft is only 10% of the process. Here is a pie chart demonstrating the overall gist. It’s messed up because I aggressively and deliberately misunderstand math at all times and also because I traced a ramekin full of discarded date pits on my desk for the outside, but you get the idea.

What I’m trying to say is: be prepared to spend the same amount of time editing as writing. 

GET CRITIQUE PARTNERS

This is the first step to editing. You need outside eyes. You don’t know if you have written the story you intended to tell until readers tell you that you’ve succeeded. A story is not complete until it has an audience. 

You can find some here. 

BIG PICTURE EDITS

It’s important to do your edits in the right order: there’s no point focusing on word choice when you don’t know if you’re going to keep a scene or not. What you’re looking for in big picture edits are

• pacing (is it taking you forever to get to your inciting incident? Are you leaping into breathless action so fast that the reader doesn’t have time to get emotionally invested? Is the general shape correct — do your stakes both emotional and physical slowly ratchet up til the climax?)

• clarity (do we know what the point of the book is? Do we understand who the main character is? Do we understand the stakes of the magic or the mystery or love story, etc?)

• momentum (are your scenes stacked in the correct order, or do you move backwards in stakes or have two scenes that essentially do the same thing?)

• consistency of character (are your characters consistent and inevitable? can we predict their behavior enough to be shocked if they do something out of character for once?)

• correctness of cast (do you have two characters who do the same thing in the plot? do you need to delete or add POVs or characters to your cast?)

• simplicity of execution (does the reader understand where they are in the plot? can they guess they are halfway through when they are halfway through, etc.?)

Title a document “outtakes.doc” and throw stuff that’s not working into it. You can always come back to them if you need them, but it’s often easier to see what you’re doing with the chaff removed.

LINE EDITS

Line edits are when you stop having to move big chunks around and can start fixing things within your newly edited shape. That is when you can start looking at adjusting pacing, tone, and momentum on a line level. Example:

Original sentence: The box rolled out of the truck and hit the ground.

Speed things up: Wham. The box, dropped. Tssss. Glass, exploded.

Slow things down: She snatched at air, and felt the whisper of the box sliding against her fingertips. The sound of the bottles exploding on the pavement echoed down the alley.

Ground us: Everything changed the moment that box hit the asphalt.

Tell us about a character: Ten years before, she’d been watching a box fall from through her mother’s hands in just this way. MORE ANECDOTE HERE 

COPYEDITS

This is the part where you actually fix typos and continuity errors, and it’s the least important part of editing. This is where you can enlist a non-bookish friend to feel useful, because the less invested you are in the book, the easier they are to spot. 

IN CONCLUSION

You could write entire books about revision — someone probably has — but this might be a start.

Happy wording.

urs,

Stiefvater