Letters to Half Moon Street by Sarah Wallace is a delightful epistolary romance novel set in a queer-friendly Regency London, with magic. Reserved, bookish Gavin Hartford has been sent to London, ostensibly to manage some family business but mostly to get him out from under the same roof as his overbearing firstborn brother and his
I’ve basically been doing Revision 3.5 on the first half of the book, so there isn’t really “progress” to report. Because I write with continuity (threads of a scene weave through scenes before and after it, and some of those threads extend far), I can’t just pluck out a scene and be done with it.
According to Apple, their customers in the EU are not doing business with them but with me (someone explain why they’re taking 30% if I’m actually selling direct), and therefore my address and phone number must appear on each of my product pages. Needless to say, that won’t be happening. There are expensive solutions to
Halfway through this revision pass! Rejoice and/or weep per your personal “mid level of water in a glass” setting. Roughed in the Hero POV scene that replaces the one from a purged side quest. Managed to pull in his phobia, so it’s not quite completely disjointed. It’s in bad shape, but it serves its functional
Revision resumes with arrival at Big City 1. The story has been sparsely populated up to this point. There’s a shift of dynamic between having the run of the environment and having to work around people who have their own work to do and don’t give a damn about your problems, thank you very much,
Revision resumes with a potential turn-back point, which Heroine basically ignored in her mechanical trudge toward the next plot point. I had her slow down to acknowledge both certain death ahead and equally certain but postponed death if she turns back, then tapped both her conscience and a grudge as motivation to justify moving forward.
This week on Revision Island, we get back to deeper work than changing or rearranging a smattering of words. The need was obvious, so maybe (fingers crossed) the tweak-only portions really were mostly fine. Heroine has never trusted Hero because he lies like a rug on the floor, but—as noted in the text—hers is a
This week on It’s Always Sweltering in Revision, we begin with a scene that received only nitpicks. That felt too easy and may need more substantial changes, but I can’t fix a problem I can’t identify. I’m due to send myself an updated draft and read the latest batch of scenes for speech therapy, so
Last time on The Young and the Revision, I cut an unnecessary chunk of a scene and removed a scene break to make that unit of activity more of a speed run. “Speed run” and “still over 3000 words” really aren’t compatible concepts, however. About halfway through that unit of activity, Heroine briefly observes Hero
Content Warning Discourse is in the air again, which means people are showing their whole asses again, now with links to news outlets breathlessly and uncritically regurgitating anti-content-warning opinions because journalism is dead. I’ve already blown my stack about media literacy elsewhere at length, so I’ll drop the short, semi-polite version of that here, along