Friday, September 19, 2014

On revisions and rewriting

I have had my novel, The Phoenix, completed for almost two years now and after much deliberation and two rounds of edits, I've decided it needs to be rewritten.

Ummm...

Rewriting a novel is not exactly what I thought I would ever do, but I love the story so much I know it will be even better after this rewrite.

This is not an official cover, just an artsy one I created using Photoshop.  The artwork I used is not my own.

I feel like whenever I create a book cover it turns out looking like a cover for a romance novel...

So anyway, I've just rewritten up to chapter 9 and have decided to go the alternating point of view style.  I think it gives the reader a better sense of who my main characters are.  Its been a challenge doing this because my original writing was only from one person's point of view, so going back through and adding in the male character's voice has been fun, yet challenging.

Here is a snippet of Chapter 1:

DANE

     I always reek of smoke afterward. The kind of smoke that carries the scent of burnt hair and flesh, a raging inferno so hot nothing in its path can survive. Yet, I always do. None the worse for ware, however. Once, I even played with the raging flames, made them dance along my neon red fingertips, the tendrils wrapped around my skin like silk. It was beautiful, and didn’t even hurt.

     Luckily, the field I’m standing in is damp and green with new spring growth; this burning didn’t have anything to grab hold of. As if I need another fire on my conscious. I can’t see any houses around, just tall pine trees, match sticks really. My clothes have all burned away and the cool spring air is doing nothing for my self-confidence. I shake my leg, and the fireproof box I have chained to my ankle rattles at my feet. Everything I need to start fresh is in there: a change of clothes, my wallet with a fair amount of cash and my driver’s license, though I’ve been on the move so much its outdated.

     I shrug on a fresh shirt and the cool cotton fabric slides down my chest like feathers. As I’m buttoning my jeans a low rumble on pavement catches my ear. There must be a road nearby. The tall grass whips at my jeans as I sprint toward the sound of the oncoming vehicle. I can see it clearly now from behind this barbed wire fence, a beat up older Chevy model truck with two-tone blue paint; its hideous, but it will do for now. Carefully I bend the middle wire down so I can climb through the gaping jaws of the piercing fence and I tumble awkwardly down the sloped ground below coming to a rolling stop at the edge of the road.

     Screeching tires and burning rubber fill my ears and nose. I roll out of the way just seconds before the truck can plow over me. The driver’s door flies open when the truck comes to a jerky stop and a girl jumps out. She runs over to me spewing out questions and worried sobs.

     “Oh my gosh! Are you hurt?” Her hands clasp around my elbow. “Of course you’re hurt, you’re bleeding.” She rotates my elbow around to find the source of the blood; her face twists in confusion. “Wait, there’s not even a scratch. But where did the blood come from?” She drops my arm and backs away from me; fear filling her navy blue eyes.

     My head is throbbing as it always does when my body heals itself. “I’m sure it was just a scratch,” I say. “You probably just missed it.” My stomach growls fiercely and my headache turns to lightheadedness. “I need food. Take me to get some food.” The girl backs away from me moving closer to her truck. She doesn’t trust me, and why should she? “Please?” I ask. It’s against my better nature to be kind, but I try anyway.

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Hope you like it!  I have about 20 more chapters to go before it's finished and then a few more rounds of edits.  Maybe I'll be done by Christmas...maybe?

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