So if you're here, you've found one of the hidden extras for my young adult dystopia/mythology novel, Solstice! Did you get here from a trading card? No idea what I'm talking about? Info on trading cards is here.

Anyway, thanks for visiting! If you want to read more about the book or more about me, click on the links above to find out everything you ever wanted to know. My homepage is here.

Anyway, let's talk revisions. Sometimes there are a million things that change between first and final draft. And sometimes, not that much changes at all. For Solstice, I revised and revised and revised until I couldn't stand to revise anymore. And then I revised some more.

Here's a peek at what changed between the very first draft of the very first page and how that page looked in the final draft.

First Draft, First Page

    If I knew he was the Lord of Hell, I wouldn’t have sat next to him. But when I walk into Social Sciences, his face turns to me, and echoes of secrets smolder behind his dark eyes. His lips move into a flicker of a smile, and a piece of his thick, dark mane falls across his forehead. He’s big and buff and flat out gorgeous. He seems to glow of mystery and darkness; is that even possible? In short, he sums up every single thing my mom tells me to avoid. So I sit down next to him.
    “You’re late, Piper,” Mr. Kaiser says.
    I shrug and drop my backpack onto the ground next to me. “My mom called the office.”
    On cue follows the idiotic crack from Randy Conner I know will come. “Making sure you got out of the bathroom OK?”
    The class snickers, and I turn around and shoot Randy my best glare, avoiding looking at the new guy next to me. But my peripheral vision catches him, and my heart tightens into something resembling a Gordian knot; he’s staring right at me.
    I feel my face heat up, wishing I could crawl under the desk. Jokes of my mom’s over-protectiveness rule the school. When she’s not calling to check on me, she’s stopping by. And I swear she gets the teachers to spy for her even though I never give them anything to report.
    It’s not until I turn back around, get my notebook and pen out, and Mr. Kaiser starts lecturing that I feel the new guy’s eyes shift off me.
    “Global Warming,” Mr. Kaiser says, writing it on the board in bright orange dry erase marker.
    I can smell the marker even over the A/C unit pumping in the back of the room. And I can smell something else. New and strong. Like body odor. But not in a bad way. In a way which makes me want to take a long, deep inhale and savor it.
    “We’ll finish the year with a month long series on it.” Mr. Kaiser caps the marker and turns to face us.
    I groan along with every other kid in the class—except the new guy. I chance a sideways look and catch his mouth curve into a smile—like there’s something funny about the whole subject. The only funny thing about the endless summer we’re stuck in is how much time people spend talking about it. They call it catastrophic and claim the earth is melting. They have forty national news channels dedicated to nothing but the endless misery caused by rising temperatures. They’ve even started building bases on the moon and Mars in case the earth needs to be evacuated.
    I just call it hotter than hell, and try to avoid thinking about it, which means a lot of ignoring the TV and zoning out during lectures.

Final Draft, Same Page

(insert a whole new chapter, and then…)
(insert some more stuff to transition from the new chapter to this one, and then…)

    When I walk into Social Sciences, there’s a new guy sitting right where I normally sit near the windows. His face turns to me, and his eyes are the first thing to catch my interest. They’re dark like chocolate and filled with shadows. His lips move into a flicker of a smile, and a piece of his dark hair falls across his forehead. He makes me think of mysteries and secrets. In short, he sums up every single thing my mom tells me to avoid. So I sit down in the empty seat next to him.
    “You’re late, Piper.” Mr. Kaiser’s already started class.
    I pretend not to look at the new guy and drop my backpack onto the ground. “My mom called.”
    I wait for the idiotic crack from Randy Conner which I know will come. He doesn’t disappoint. “Making sure you got between classes okay?”
    The class snickers, and I shoot Randy my best glare. But my peripheral vision catches the new guy, and my heart tightens into something resembling a Gordian knot; he’s staring right at me.
    My face heats up, and I wish I could fade into invisibility. Jokes about my mom’s over-protectiveness are rampant at school. It’s not until I turn back around, get my tablet out, and Mr. Kaiser starts lecturing that I feel the new guy’s eyes shift off me.
    “Global Heating Crisis.” Mr. Kaiser prints GHC in giant letters on the board in bright orange dry erase marker, underlining it three times. “We’ll finish the year with a month-long series on it.” Mr. Kaiser caps the marker and turns to face us.
    I chance a sideways look at the new guy and catch his mouth curve into a smile when he sees me looking.