Editing Last Train Home

I estimated I would be done with the editing process by the end of April, but for a while there I didn't think it was possible. Work and my other writing projects caught up with me.

But I did a ton of editing this week! It all started last Friday, when I edited over 20k words. That was ten chapters. I edited eight more this week, and plan to edit two or three more today. I have thirteen chapters left, so unless I decide to blitz through those, it'll all be done by next Friday (or Wednesday).

Now that I have a clear plan in mind, I think I can pull this off!

While there were a few typos and misused words here and there, it's mostly been a clean edit. I've had to remove excess wording, however; I'm guilty of padding out the word count to chase that last dollar on Kindle Vella. It's token based, and every bit helps. But I dislike that tactic for actual books.

These edits will be reflected on Laterpress and Neovel, with a few touches here and there on Vella; there are issues of episodes being blocked, so I have to be careful.

One semi-big thing I've had to do is change the name of Meike's rabbit. They named it Fiver, a character from Watership Down. Out of concern of legal action, I've decided to rename him Saffron. I've also fleshed out a few characters, properly named towns and important people, etc.

Currently debating if I really want to go through the effort of giving Anniken her own POV chapters. I planned on a few, but I rather like the mystery of her going on these grand adventures, with Meike only catching bits and pieces...it's not too important to see how she started, but where she is now. And there are hints of her training and getting stronger.

Anniken is very proactive and resourceful, and we see that through Meike's perspective.

I'll end this post with an excerpt from the second chapter:

 They waded through the flowers, their target the lone tree in the area. If they could climb it and get a good view, it might shed some light on this mystery. ‘Or you’ll fall down, hit your head, and wake up.’
 But Meike never got that far; they were in the middle of swinging themself up onto one of the sturdier branches, when their foot caught on something solid. Not solid the way the tree trunk was, but more of the flesh and bone variety. They tentatively nudged the object beneath the leaves, and something white and slender rolled out—a human arm.
 They glanced around, half-expecting someone to rise above the flowers and aim an accusatory finger at them, before emitting a dull scream like a pod person. But no such scene followed. The only sound was the wind, birdsong, and the soft groans beneath their foot.
 Meike crouched down and brushed the mass of dead leaves and flowers away from the arm, and froze when it grabbed for them. At least now they knew it was attached to someone, and not simply tossed out like day old bread. They frantically shook the hand off and resumed digging.
 A jacket and another arm came into view, and with nails black with soil, Meike grasped the flailing hands and dug their heels into the ground. They weren’t particularly strong; years of gaming, reading, and gardening only amounted to muscle memory and toned fingers, but determination guided them through.
 Out popped a gasping figure, blonde hair almost indistinguishable from the dirt she was born from. The woman came kicking and sobbing, and dropped to her hands and knees in a patch of purple buttercups.