Whether you’re a self-publishing author or going through a publishing house, the first chapter of your story is vital. Readers want to be hooked from the first page.
Not feeling confident about your writing? Hire me to edit your first chapter! In need of a second pair of eyes before sending your story off to a literary agent? Hire me to edit your first chapter! Mildly interested in seeing what I can do to spruce up your story? Hire me to edit your first chapter! It’s only $10.
If you end up liking my edits and/or literary critiques, you’re welcome to hire me as an editor for the rest of your story. Full edits will be accepted on a case-by-case basis. For more info about this and why I’m offering this service, click HERE. To learn more about me and why I’m qualified to edit, click HERE.
You must fill out this request form and email it to me at email@example.com with the subject line reading: “Request for Edit – (Your Name and Title of Story).”
Please allow 3-5 business days for me to accept or decline your request. If for some reason you don’t hear from me after 5 days, email me with a polite nudge. Your message may have slipped through the cracks and into my spam folder.
If accepted, I will send you an invoice for the service and the price. You will have to pay via PayPal, a link which can be found on the right side of my website, and after receiving your payment, I will get to work editing.
So: request form to me – invoice to you – payment to me – edits to you!
(Using the first page of my novelette, Scarlett Burn – Vol 1)
The jagged rock pierced her brown fingers, mushing tender muscle and flesh between bone and stone. Heavy climbing gear was strapped to her waist, legs, and back. A sling filled with white chalk hung at her tailbone. The powder was the only thing able to dry her moist palms and fingers. Days of hiking and climbing had worn her out, but she clung to the rock regardless because that was what Timon said to do.
“Take your time, Scar,” said Timon from a ledge just below.
The j Jagged rock pressed into the pads of pierced her Scarlett’s bronzed brown fingers, tenderizing mushing tender muscle and flesh between bone and stone. It was windy this high up the mountain. A cool autumn day with clear blue skies had replaced the dry heat of summer.
She felt herself beginning to slip, so she focused on her fingertips rather than how far she was above the treetops. Her nails were already chewed to the quick, the edges caked in white chalk–the only thing able to dry her moist palms and fingers. A sling of the stuff hung at her tailbone. Heavy climbing gear was strapped to her waist, legs, and back.
A sling filled with white chalk hung at her tailbone. The powder was the only thing able to dry her moist palms and fingers. Days of hiking and climbing had worn her out, but she clung to the rock face regardless because that was what Timon said to do.
A deep voice floated up from a ledge below. “Take your time, Scarlett.”
said Timon from a ledge just below.
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