How To Edit Your Novels & Stories

I stared at her in confusion. “You know a lot about ultrasound?” I asked and she shrugged. “I know a lot about many things. Look at your name” She pointed to it. “It looks crystal clear and has crispy edges while the rest of the image looks grainy. It simply shows that the name was pasted later on. Editing always disrupts natural texture consistency,” my mouth stayed wide open.

My face and Dmitry’s barely show but the angle is enough to show everything happening and my thumbs hover across the screen. The thought of sending it to Tamer crosses my mind thrice and I bite down on my lip to stop my train of thoughts. Things to note: Real names are being used and even though my face barely shows if someone decides to enhance the brightness I’m certain the reflection will give me out. But I can also edit most of it out… right? Why’s the idea of sending Tamer the video doing something unsurprisingly new to me… A low sigh leaves my lips and I get down to business, censoring out our names. It takes more hours than I actually planned out and by the time I’m done it’s already

And also, even if it is already edited, I can't assure you that it won't have mistakes anymore since making mistakes is inevitable. I'll reread and edit it all over again so expect some changes if ever you decide to read the chapter again. Thank you for understanding.

I set my bag down, placed my iPad on the coffee table, and sank into the couch with a sigh of contentment. The buzz of the evening lingered, but I knew I needed to harness this energy while it lasted. I reached for my iPad and opened my editing app, scrolling through clips I’d filmed earlier in the week. Each frame felt like a piece of my journey—messy, unpolished, but undeniably me.

“Damn, so you weren't lying on TV when you said you write a lot.” “You watched that?” He nodded. “You looked very elegant.” I smiled and looked away. “Thanks.” “Look, people even made edits of you.” He said, pulling out his phone and pressing some keys. “Watch this, I saved it.” It was a video of me with music playing in the background. It showed me walking towards my seat in slow motion, with a huge smile, and then it showed snippets of me talking and moving my arms and hands as I made a point. I looked so beautiful, elegant, happy and so… powerful.

But even her presence couldn’t touch this. “I edited you out of your own pain,” I whispered to the empty bathroom, voice raw. “I took the truth and made it smaller so I could stand in the frame. I told myself I was protecting you when really I was protecting the version of me that couldn’t survive if you saw everything.”

Hey guys I have seen your complaints recently, and I think you are making sense. I can't update today because I deleted my drafts for today (and the next few days). It's a whole event, and I want to see if I can design it better for you. I'll come back with a new version as soon as I can. Don't wait up. Nyx

I sat up straight instantly, my mind moving faster now, piecing things together in a way that made too much sense for me to ignore. “Of course…” I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “Of course it can be reversed.” Because editing works both ways. You add layers, replace frames, manipulate sound. But underneath all of that… There’s always a base. An original. Something real. And if I can get to that… Then I don’t need to keep explaining myself. I don’t need to keep asking her to trust me. I can show her. “Moon goddess…” I exhaled sharply, shaking my head as I pushed my chair back slightly. “Why didn’t I think of this before?”

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as a salty tang filled my mouth. Turning to me, Phoebe shrugged it off. “You were here as I edited it, and you saw me editing it.” She raised both brows. I pinched my nose. “Yes, I did. But I wanted. You know..” My tongue tied as I tried to explain it. I should have made the touches as she was editing it. “Thank you.” “You are welcome.” Phoebe returned to her work. “Which floors are you designing?” I questioned.

"I'm not feeling well. How about you come here to my house?" "Not a bad idea." He sounds delightful. "Good thing that you have a brain to think of that, just pin me your location, and I'll be there." You click the bait, little boss. Yes, I have a brain, duh? I edit your works with your messy grammar. I don't want to make this conversation longer, and I need to clean this place. Before I hang up, I request something that will make him blush a bit.