*claps hands together, blows into
them anxiously*
*stares down at Chapter Eighteen,
who lies sprawled but wiggling on the editing block, soft belly exposed and
trembling*
I feel like I’m about to gut a puppy.
Eighteen is everything good about The Hushing Days. It is the
manuscript’s core, its beating heart, its soft, squishy soul...
Yep, gutting a puppy here.
So, you go enjoy your day. I surely won’t be enjoying mine.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
Post-Note: Sorry about the imagery here, but editing can be ugly
business. Sometimes truth must come before tact… now, excuse me while I go
smooch my furry, four-legged muse silly.
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