Hello, hello, it’s week four already (holy crap!) and this week we focused on self-edits. After four passes, okay maybe five if you count adding the word “a” and a sentence, I did what I could with it.

Since I was substantially under the word count before, I added to mine, bringing it up to 463 words. Once I felt like it was good where it was at I did a final pass through with the text to speech function to help catch anything that might sound awkward.

If I read it to myself aloud I am not able to notice odd words or a missing word, I don’t know why, so robot voice from word it is! My goal was to add just a bit more so as to give the reader a better understanding of the main character (MC), the MC’s situation, and hopefully continue with some sense of humor/sarcasm—still don’t know if I managed that one.

Without further ado, here’s my self-edited draft:

NOWHERE

Stars freckled Night’s sky. The only positive to this imprisonment is it’s forced me out of the hustle of human cities that compete against those twinkling marks on his face. I’d never tell Night how much I enjoyed this view. How it brought peace in this temporary solitude. He’d never let it go.

Surprisingly, this was my first time relegated to Nowhere. A special kind of hell for those of us who weren’t from the human realm. The Orchestrator dropped me—literally—from the sky into this wasteland. All that’s here is sand, the sky, and a decrepit fishing boat with a sun-bleached wood and splintered deck. Not even a breeze exists here. On the first day, I walked for hours away from the boat, but every time I looked over my shoulder, there it was. There is no end, only a beginning in Nowhere.

You might be wondering what I did to get locked up here. I brought a couple of humans to the Other Space out of sheer boredom. Not my smartest move. But their reaction to the Other Space was almost worth it. This place was the crossroads between realms where all manner of magical, fantastical, and bizarre beings came together. There were only two rules to OS, don’t bring your petty fights from your realm here and no humans. Their feeble, non-magically inclined minds weren’t capable of comprehending magic as something more than fiction or myth. Most beings who visit OS were pretty chill. Not the conductors though. They were the right hands to the Orchestrator, the one being who sees all realms at all times and the one who doles out punishments to individuals like me.

When the Orchestrator transported me here, they said, “Trickster, freedom comes like the ocean.”

I had no idea what kind of bullshit poetry that was, but this morning I heard the first sound in this shithole that wasn’t my own voice or my cards in three hundred days. Bubbling water.

I pulled out my deck of beholder cards, which the Orchestrator was kind enough not to confiscate. Shuffling the deck, I thought of where I’d jump to the moment I sailed out of here. The blank cards clicked with each bridging. Olympus didn’t much like me, nor did Haevan’s Worth. Who was I to know they didn’t appreciate my talents for shifting. It was all in good fun, really. I let the bridge fall. Azedamon. That’s where I’d go. I haven’t been a dragon in ages.

I drew the top card as the realm of dragons, wyrms, and wyverns bled onto its face. Now to decide the specific place I’d jump to. My finger rested on the next card as a smile worked across my face, “I’ll be waiting for you freedom.”

Afterthoughts

After writing it all, I realized with great frustration that I don’t really know many other ways to describe cards, decks of cards, and how to shuffle or bridge the cards. My partner can vouch for that because I bothered him on it too. With it being a short story, I know that word choice matters so much more and I wanted there to be as little repetition as possible. Suggestions on that would definitely be appreciated!

Any who, I hope you enjoyed the changes I made. I look forward to Ellen and Sean’s recommendations for edits. After I get those back it’ll be off to one of the awesome editors.

Always, follow the adventure.

Melissa Bergum is a Wisconsinite born and bred, pass the cheese and Brandy Old Fashioned Sweets, but hold the beer. Among the many things she is, she’s a wife, a mommer to a toddler who wants to grow big enough to touch the sky, and a case manager for children and adolescents with severe and persistent mental health needs. She enjoys spending time with family and friends, watching anime, playing games (video, board, tabletop), and, of course, writing. You can find a short story of hers and an excerpt featured on Ghoul Intentions.

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