I still have to read through my first draft of Harvest. It's been nearly three months since I finished it but I don't know where to start. The obvious answer is page one, however, I don't know what I'm looking for.
“Here,” Mom said, sneaking ahead of me. She pushed the door open. Its hinge popped in intervals. The dark cabin felt stale and musty. Mom reached her hands into the shadowed threshold. “Everyone back up. Unless you want to be doused.” We shuffled against the cabin’s siding, clearing the way behind her. With a swoop of her hands, a low wind reverberated through the log home. Mom stepped out of the doorway as a pluming column of dust and cobwebs blew out of the cabin and settled over top nearby ferns. “Mind if I take the bed?” Melinda asked. Mom gestured to the doorway. “Please, by all means.”
She took my hand, and the world around us halted. Mom and Arthur became catatonic. The grandfather clock in the living room went silent, its swinging arm locked in a diagonal. A fly buzzing beneath the warmth of the entranceway table lamp hung still in mid-air, right beneath the beaded switch string.
I've been plugging away on my novel and put down some thoughts on its development. There's also a brief excerpt for you!