I did it. I managed to get off my wondrously evil couch and edit my NaNo project, Sierra Storm, for a bit. 4 whole chapters checked for grammar, plot holes, pacing, and a whole bunch of other silliness.
*Pats self on back.*
I think it’s a good sign that I’m enjoying reading it while editing, right?
Here’s an exerpt I especially liked from Chapter 6 (this is still the unedited version – I’m doing all my editing with paper and pen):
The stars seemed to wink at me above, laughing at me, and with me over the humorousness of it all; silly human getting worked up over something harmless. Such is the way of life. We make fools of ourselves and the stars are our witnesses.
“Then again, I’d rather have the stars be witnesses to my follies than anyone else.” True. Very true.
I cast about for a new song to start up but the momentum and motivation had been lost. My eyes were drawn back into the fire and I partially zoned out; only semi-aware of my surroundings and not really thinking about anything in particular. When mother and daughter deer made their way back through my camp, disappearing back into the forest at the spot in the trees where I had first seen them, I knew they were there but didn’t raise my gaze from the fire to track their progress.
When, a few minutes later, a flash of red streaked across my field of vision across the fire from me at the edge of the clearing I ignored it as well. Once again, I was aware of it, aware of the color, the shape hinting at substance (it had weight and depth, it wasn’t just a flash of light), and the new twist in the mystery in that it appeared directly in front of me rather than at the corners of my sight. However, unlike the previous incarnations of the mysterious movement, I had finally learned that going in search of the source wouldn’t bear any results. So, I stayed seated, warm and relaxed, by my fire.
The night continued on and eventually I found my voice again, sang to the mountains, and sang to myself. My pile of firewood dwindled away to nothing and the fire followed suit. The stars kept on winking at me, letting me know they were in on the great cosmic joke that is human life. Oh sure, we may think we are intelligent beings, but how smart are we really? That’s what I thought.
The fire puffed out, leaving only the glowing bed of coals, and I made my way to my tent to get the rest I would need to do it all again the next day. There would be more elevation to gain and lose, there would be many more miles to traverse, there would be more aches and pains, and fishing, and fire time, and cooking, and water to be pumped, and based on the last two days there would probably be more instances of a mysterious flash of red crossing my vision.
I zipped myself into my sleeping bag and wondered for a moment if I’d miss that mystery if it didn’t show up the following day. Would I wonder where it had gone? Would I wonder if I had just been making it up? Or would it be out of sight and out of mind and I wouldn’t even waste a second thought on it.
Through the mesh top of my tent I saw the stars wink at me again.