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#AmEditing

5 posts3 participants0 posts today

"Is that what you call it?" Nastasia snorted. "You became distant. Silent. You went on duty, and everything stopped. Karen even stopped asking to see my knives."

Karen meeped and jumped on Nastasia. "I forgot about the sharps! Damn it, I forgot about the sharps." She buried her face in Nastasia's neck, and Leyla would have said something, but Nastasia pulled her close. "I'm sorry. Work messes with my brain."

Leyla sighed. "I'm starting to think it messes with all our brains."
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4,300 words done on The Last Lady of Lună. Gonna take that nap, but may come back and do more later.

"Woven fabric always makes me think of a square-net without holes." Ey continued to Chotaikytsai, "But you talk about 'looms' that were as wide as your arm. That's nothing like netmaking."

They spent the rest of the night talking about rope-making and village life. The next night, Chotaikytsai pulled out a little child's loom that was the only loom saved from the fire. Kyawtchais gave eir yarn, and the short-one showed them how to thread the warp and send the shuttle through to build the weft. The silent-one watched in fascination, and Kyawtchais thought it a pity the city had no room for another weaving family.
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About 3000 words edited today. Yay progress!

Continued thread

Working away at editing my 2900-word trans-Europe train article to 1400 words, and after a few hours I'm down to 1556 words. Sounds good, but its so much harder once you've got rid of the obviously unnecessary stuff. Wish me luck!

#ScribesAndMakers 7/15 How's your creativity going? Share a paragraph or image for critique?

It's going well, I think. My current focus is editing, but Rai and I recently started re-drafting one of our stories from last winter. Progress and some fun on all sides.

Here's my most recent snippet from Planting Life:

They finished raising that section – the entire house-to-be now had walls to the height of eir knees – and Kyawtchais gratefully stood and stretched eir back. Spinning was not idle work, but a full day at the walls used more and different muscles than Kyawtchais was used to.

That, too, was like creating a family.

Together, Kyawtchais went with the gruff-one and silent-one to the outside hearth. Today, ey would stay for dinner.

Hello #WritingCommunity

Currently #amediting

One of these is old and one is new. And I won’t say which way round they are.

Gut feeling please. Which version looks better to you?

(An image is in the first reply in case your instance cannot show the full plain text)

Please boost for a wider sample.

I'm editing parts of my dissertation to add content and simplify the language in the hopes of widening my audience beyond . I knew this would be hard, but it’s turned out to be grueling. Adding content is interesting and fun. But stripping out all the academic jargon without tying myself in knots explaining linguistic concepts is proving quite difficult. I've been marinating in jargon for years and now I'm having to sweat it all out like toxins.

@linguistics

2000 words edited today. Less than usual, but progress still counts.

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Kyawtchais' Cenn had loved the trees. Loved them enough that in spite of the risks, ey had insisted on going out into the forest when eir contractions began. Penpy had a common name – dawn. Ey insisted eir child would have a name that meant something more than the time of day ey had been born.

Penpy had gotten eir wish. Deep in the forest at night, attended by fearful healers and hired guards, ey had given birth. The moment the child had left eir body, eir eyes had been locked on the foxfire glow only seen by those who dared the woods at night. Kyawtchaisawt, the cold fire was called. Kyawtchais, then, became eir infant's name.

It was a name that spoke of mystery, of secret things, of deep darkness.