I just finished my edit of The Keegans of Banner’s Edge. I’m actually, for now, kind of at peace with this story. I’m ready to attack my query, figure out a synopsis, and get cracking on the queries! Maybe, if all works out, by next week!
The edit has come out to:
The unedited finished fourth draft was:
358 pages (but those pages weren’t formatted correctly…i.e, when I write, I tend to let the chapters run together instead of separating them onto new pages kind of thing)
55 chapters (I combined several chapters in the edit. Getting rid of a character will allow you to do that.)
100,173-96, 551=3,622 words gone.
Here’s an excerpt below.
“Hello, Miles,” she said. Her accent was brittle, upper crust. Hadn’t she used to speak with a hint of the North in her voice, or was that his imagination?
Miles bowed, not knowing what to say.
Hannah Keegan had a naturally oval face with very high cheekbones. It hadn’t been a lie, he realized, when he thought Alexandra resembled her, for she did. Mother had small blue eyes and light-colored, thin eyebrows. Her small nose was straight and aristocratic and her lips were thin almost to the point of non-existence. Miles sat, realizing that he was staring.
The thin lips twitched at the corners. “Crestwell was correct. You are quite a man now. I daresay, you’ve grown handsome. Last time I saw you, you were a pudgy child.”
Miles furrowed his brow, but replied, “Thank you, Mother.”
“The Banstons are your neighbors, correct?”
“Hmm. Your daughters are here?”
“They are. They’re at a museum with their governess.”
“I’m sure London is diverting for them. Have you been out much? Are you enjoying the Season?”
“I’ve not been to many receptions, though I’m supposed to escort Lady Banston to the theater tonight. I’m here for business matters.”
“Not looking for a wife?”
“No, not at all,” Miles replied. “We may not even stay for the whole Season.” There was a long pause. “I saw Crestwell a few days ago.”
“Yes, he told me.” She smiled, though it looked more akin to a slight grimace. “You must tell me more about your business, Miles. How many ships do you own?”
“We own two outright, have interests in two others, and now also run barges from Wales to Bristol.” Miles adjusted his weight. The chair was old and uncomfortable. The silence that fell over them was not comfortable either.
Mother broke the silence. “How are your daughters settling in?”
“Quite well, I think. Their governess is amazing.”
“They’re educated together?”
“They’re mostly always together. I’m lucky that they get on so well.”
“I suppose you and your brothers got on well as children. Didn’t you? That was the impression I had of you all.”
“I suppose,” Miles said, “though I see my girls more than you saw us.”
Mother ignored him. “Well, this has been a pleasant visit. I’m not sure that your father will necessarily want to see you.”
Before he could stop himself, Miles quipped, “I’m not sure I necessarily want to see him.”