Travis Starnes
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Would you want to see re-written chapters
🕑 Added 2023-04-20 05:01:04 +0000 UTCOver the last few months, I've been working on trying to improve my writing and working with a new editor (as opposed to just proofreaders and beta-readers), since I've always felt was sometimes both a little too long winded and not good at being descriptive enough. Since I didn't want to slow down the chapters everyone has been getting, I didn't worry about that and kept barreling through chapters, but now that Elegy is about to be started and The Depths of Neptune is about to finish, I thought this would be a good time to start really working on that. (I'm not going to slow on Neptune, so it will be in my normal style for now).
As part of that, I am going to slowly start to rewrite the first Country Roads book (and others, eventually). There will be no changes to character or story acrs, so this is all "cosmetic", but I plan on updating the books here and on amazon when I finish. I've included an example of the first little bit of the first scene from Playing by ear below (both the original and the new version) so you can see what I'm talking about.
Would this be something you'd want to read? (You'd basically only be getting notices/republishes of the old chapters already posted here, but rewritten. The original chapter here being replaced).
(I will eventually, over what will probably be several years since my focus is to keep getting new chapters out quickly, do all of my books with the exception of maybe the destiny books)
Old Version
“Baby, wake up. Come on, you’re starting school today.”
I moaned as the dream I was having vanished, the mansion we lived in replaced by the fake wood-paneled walls of our trailer.
“I was having such a good dream,” I whined, rolling over and pulling a pillow over my head.
“I know, sweetheart, but you don’t want to be late for your first day of school, and I have to get to work. Come on, I made you eggs.”
“Urrf,” I mumbled as I felt her get up from the edge of the bed and go back towards the front of the trailer, flipping on my room light as she left.
I lay there, head covered for another moment, wishing I could go back to sleep. I knew, however, she’d just be back, and I didn’t want to skip breakfast. While Mom wouldn’t be mad at me, I knew we couldn’t afford to waste the food, and I didn’t want to be the reason she was late for work.
Rolling over, eyes still squeezed shut from the light, I leveraged myself up, planting my feet on the rough carpet. I stumbled my way through getting dressed and brushing my teeth, finally managing to get my eyes open by the time I walked through the small living room into the kitchen that doubled as the entrance to our trailer.
I found her sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee next to my spot, where she’d set out some scrambled eggs, a piece of toast, and a cup of milk.
“Just coffee for breakfast?”
“You know me; I’m not really a breakfast person. I just need to have my coffee.”
“What about your lunch?”
“I’ll get something at the cafeteria.”
“Don’t do that,” I said, sitting down my fork and giving her what I thought was a stern look.
“I’m not doing anything. You worry about doing good at school today and let me worry about the parenting stuff. You may be the man of the house, but I’m still your mother.”
“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore. Things are different now. We’re not getting handouts from bar kitchens, and Dad isn’t here to steal groceries anymore.”
“Don’t talk that way about your father, Charlie.”
“I heard Uncle Tony tell someone that once.”
“You shouldn’t listen to gossip, Charlie. He may have done some things I don’t approve of, but he’s still your father. He did what he had to do to support us.”
“What he had to do was not drink every dollar he made,” I mumbled under my breath.
I know she heard me, but she let it pass.
“Baby, I promise I’ll take care of myself. Okay?”
“Fine. I just worry about you.”
“And I worry you aren’t going to finish your food and make it to the bus on time. Get a move on.”
I rolled my eyes but wolfed down the rest of my eggs without argument. Looking at the clock on the stove, she wasn’t wrong.
I grabbed my backpack, which had the school supplies she’d gotten for me over the weekend in it. It was really light without any books in it yet.
“Bye, Mom. Have a good day at work,” I said, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Have a good day at school, sweetheart. Make lots of friends.”
I gave a wave over my shoulder as I pushed through the screen door of the trailer and skipped down the wooden steps that had been set up in front of them. Our trailer was at the very back of Oakdale Estates, which was a ridiculous name for the single loop that made up the trailer park. We’d only moved in a few months ago, and most of the people who lived here were either young adults just starting out or older people living on a fixed income. There were a few other families, but all the kids I’d seen before were all a lot younger than me.
I assumed I was the only public school-aged kid since there wasn’t even a bus stop at the front road that led into the ‘mobile home community.’ Mom had called the school and asked about having a bus stop at the front of the park, but they said they couldn’t create new stops unless there were no currently available stops nearby. They decided since there was a stop just a few hundred yards from our trailer that was close enough. Never mind that I had to walk through a stand of trees, jump over a creek, and then either circle my way around twenty houses or go through someone’s back yard to get to it.
I circled around the back of our trailer and crossed the ten feet of open space into the trees. It had rained the night before, which made the ground a little spongy, and drops of water fall onto my head and the back of my t-shirt every time I bumped into tree branches as I pushed my way through to the creek.
That was another thing that made it so obvious no school-age kids lived in Oakdale. No one had crossed through this section of trees often enough to make a path, making me push through wet leaves. I broke a couple of branches off and made a mental note of where I entered this small patch. I figured if I took this same way every day and broke off some obstacles each time, I’d have an easier time of it by next semester.
The other thing the lack of trail told me was that no one from the nice houses on the other side of the creek ever crossed over to play with kids in the trailer park. Of course, that might not say anything about them, since there weren’t really any kids in the trailer park old enough to get visitors who’d be cutting through a grove of trees and over a creek, but I’d met enough people in the kinds of houses I was walking towards to know what to expect.
I slipped as I jumped over the creek, my ratty sneakers sliding in the mud, sending my right foot into the chilly water.
“Shit.”
Now I’d have a wet sock all morning.
I was just starting to shake the extra water off my foot when I heard a kid scream.
“Hey. Stop it.”
It was a little kid’s voice, still high pitched. It sounded like it was coming from in front of me. I assumed at first it came from some kids arguing in their back yard or something until I got a little closer and heard a second, much older voice.
“Harry saw the money, kid. Just give it to us, and you’ll be okay.”
“Aunt Jennifer,” the kid’s voice screamed.
It was probably as loud as he could get it, but it wasn’t loud enough. As I came around the back of the yard, I could hear someone say ‘ooff’ and a light thumping sound. When I got to a point where I could see who’d been talking I saw three kids about my age standing over a much smaller kid.
The younger kid was probably in elementary school, maybe seven or eight years old. He was wearing a costume of some kind with patches on one shoulder and some kind of toy space gun in a holster on his hip.
He was sitting on his butt, and it looked like he’d been pushed down, although he probably wasn’t actually injured. The three guys were standing over him menacingly as the little kid tried to push himself away from them. When one of the guys started to reach for him I decided I needed to do something.
I normally tried to not get involved in other people’s business, since that hardly ever ended well for me. Especially in situations like this. I wasn’t a fighter, and while I was fairly tall at an even six feet, I was rail thin. Not so much from genetics, since my dad was broad-shouldered and pretty well built, but more from just a lack of a good diet. We didn’t normally eat a lot and what meals we did have were made out of the least expensive things on the shelf, which never included things with actual nutritional value.
I might not have been the right person to try and do something about this situation, but I couldn’t stand bullies.
New Version
“Baby, wake up. Come on, you’re starting school today.”
I groaned as my dream vanished, the grand mansion replaced by the fake wood-paneled walls of our cramped trailer.
“I was having such a good dream,” I grumbled, rolling over and trying to bury my head under the pillow.
“I know, sweetheart, but you don’t wanna be late for your first day, and I gotta get to work. C’mon, I made you eggs,” she said with a warm smile.
“Mmph,” I mumbled in protest, as her weight lifted of the edge of the bed where she’d been sitting next to me
She flipped the light switch on her way out the harsh light bright even against my closed eyelids.
I lay there for a moment, wishing I could drift back into my dream world. But I knew Mom would be back, and I didn’t want to skip breakfast. We couldn’t afford to waste food, and I didn’t want her to be late for work.
Blinking against the light, I heaved myself out of bed, my feet hitting the rough carpet. I fumbled through getting dressed and brushing my teeth before shuffling into the tiny kitchen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
Mom was at the table, nursing a cup of coffee next to a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and milk she’d set for me.
“Just coffee for breakfast?” I asked.
“You know me; I’m not really a breakfast person. I just need to have my coffee,” she replied.
“What about your lunch?”
“I’ll grab something from the cafeteria,” she said, dismissing my concern.
“Don’t do that,” I insisted, trying to give her a stern look.
“Charlie, you focus on school, and let me handle the grown-up stuff. You may be the man of the house now, but I’m still your mother.”
“Mom, things are different. We’re not living off scraps from bars anymore, and Dad’s not here to steal groceries,” I argued.
“Don’t talk about your father like that,” she scolded.
“It’s true. I heard Uncle Tony say it once.”
“That man isn’t your uncle, Charlie, and gossip doesn’t help anyone. Your dad did what he had to do for us,” she sighed.
“By drinking every dollar he made?” I muttered under my breath, knowing she heard me.
She let it pass.
“Baby, I promise I’ll take care of myself. Okay?”
“Fine. I just worry about you.”
“And I worry you won’t finish your breakfast and catch the bus. Hurry up,” she chided.
I rolled my eyes but scarfed down the rest of my eggs. Glancing at the stove clock, I realized she was right. Grabbing my backpack, oddly light because I hadn't received any of my school books yet, I headed for the door.
“Bye, Mom. Have a good day at work,” I said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
“Have a great day at school, sweetheart. Make lots of friends,” she called after me.
I waved goodbye as I pushed through the screen door of our trailer and hopped down the worn wooden steps. Our trailer was tucked away in the farthest corner of Oakdale Estates, a pretentious name for the single loop that made up the aging little trailer park. We’d only moved in a few months ago, and most of our neighbors were either young adults starting out or older folks living on a fixed income. There were a few families, but all the kids seemed much younger than me.
I figured I was the only public school-aged kid here since there wasn’t even a bus stop on the main road leading into the ‘mobile home community.’ Mom had called the school to ask about adding a bus stop, but they said they couldn’t create new stops unless there were none nearby. They considered the stop just a few hundred yards from our trailer close enough, despite the fact that I had to walk through a stand of trees, jump a creek, and then navigate around twenty houses or cut through someone’s yard to reach it.
I circled around the back of our trailer and entered the small patch of woods. The ground was spongy from last night’s rain, and water droplets fell onto my head and soaked my shirt as I brushed past tree branches. Since no one had been through these woods often enough to make a path, I made a mental note of my entry point and planned to clear some obstacles each day to create a shortcut.
The lack of a trail did confirm was that there weren't any other kids from my new school living in Oakdale. It also suggested the kids from the fancy houses on the other side of the creek never visited the trailer park. Not a shock. I knew what to expect from people who lived in those kinds of houses.
As I jumped over the creek, my worn sneakers slipped in the mud, plunging my right foot into the chilly water.
“Shit,” I muttered, now stuck with a wet sock for the morning..
I was shaking off the excess water when I heard a child’s high-pitched voice shout, “Hey, stop it!”
At first, I thought it was just some kids arguing in their backyard. But as I got closer, I heard an older voice say, “Harry saw the money, kid. Just give it to us.”
“Aunt Jennifer!” the kid shrieked, but not loud enough for anyone to hear.
I moved closer and spotted three guys around my age standing over a much younger child, probably seven or eight years old. He wore a costume with patches on one shoulder and a toy space gun holstered on his hip.
The kid sat on the ground, looking scared but unharmed. The three older boys loomed menacingly as the little guy tried to scoot away. When one of them reached for him, I knew I had to do something.
Normally, I avoided getting involved in other people’s business, but I couldn’t stand bullies. Despite being tall at six feet, I was rail-thin, mostly due to our less-than-stellar diet. I wasn’t a fighter, and it was pretty clear that I wasn’t the ideal person to step in. But I couldn’t just stand by and watch these jerks torment a little kid.
Comments
Richard J Sharpe
Personally, I cannot see a problem with your writing on the Imperium series.
Travis Starnes
I promise this is not my main focus. I want to finish at least 4 more books this year, maintaining the 6 book pace I did last year. I won't leave you hanging.
Phil
I think reworking old chapters is a good exercise as it should improve your writing style going forward with your new titles. However, since I have already read most of your books, I selfishly would plead with you not to spend so much time on this effort. I would hate if reworking old books would significantly slow down your writing of your new books. I commend you for wanting to improve the quality of your work. Just remember that your fans always want your books to come out faster, and faster. :-)
Travis Starnes
That was one of my goals, so I'm glad that came across. Hopefully the new stories will also flow better.
Steve Anderson
While I've always enjoyed your writing style, I do agree that the new version flows better. Reminds me of the rewrite Stephen King did when the 'unabridged' version of the Stand was released... Same story... Just a bit cleaner and improved flow... Thanks for thinking about us, the readers, and giving us a chance to revisit the old stories with a fresh feel...
