Finding Montana

Final Edits

"Can you please go over this paragraph again?" Brigette says as she takes her over sized red pen and circles a large part on the paper, "I'm not sure how well it's working with the chapter. Maybe revise it so the wording makes a bit more sense?" Brigette says as she slides a stack of my manuscript's papers across the coffee table towards where I'm nuzzled up into the corner of my plush couch. I glance over at the pile of pages for a few moments before closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose.

"How are you doing?" Brigette shuffles the rest of her loose leaf papers onto a pile on her lap before placing them on the coffee table in front of her. Brigette has been staying with me since The Incident. The Incident is what she's shrewdly named Damien's attempted murder of the Hollis siblings and kidnapping of me that ultimately ended in his death and my absolute freedom from his abuse. It's not that I don't mind her presence here, in fact, I'm glad to have another person in this big house with me. It's just hard having to rush through the editing and finalizing process, this is something I tend to enjoy and not dread, like I am now. I close my laptop and toss it onto the other side of the couch, frustration and defeat slowly starting to creep into my mind.

"There's not enough time." I practically whine, but I know this situation is mainly my fault for procrastinating finishing my story. Brigette has been trying to get another extension from our publisher since I was released from the hospital over a week ago, yet the higher-ups weren't budging and told us to make it work with the time we've been given. The deadline for our final submission is just a few weeks away and there is no way in hell I'll be able to do multiple revisions on my manuscript with just the two of us working around the clock.

"We need someone else to work on this with us." I sigh, not knowing another way around our current predicament, "I know all the editors are swamped with other authors, but is it possible to hire someone on to help us with this final stretch?" This isn't the first time I've asked Brigette this question. We're not always in this tight predicament, however it seems that every other book I write barely makes it to its deadline. We've never had any published errors or plot-holes; that's only due to the fact that our overnight editing parties, lots and lots of caffeine, and our combined perfectionism keeps the stories from turning out like absolute garbage.

"I was thinking about that as well..." She leans back into her chair, thinking of the options at hand. "How free is Clara these days?"

"She and Travis are camping this weekend." I mutter, cursing myself for telling her to be spontaneous and step out of her own comfort-zone. If I had just waited one more week for that conversation I'm sure she would have been more than happy to help. "I do have one person in mind, though." It's a long shot and I haven't spoken to her since coming out of the hospital, but if anyone in Whitefish is as literary savvy as Brigette and me, it'll be her.

Two hours later Aggie arrives. She has the biggest grin plastered on her face and her hands are full of takeout coffee cups from Two Cups. I can see the flashing lights from the paparazzi behind her and I give them a courteous wave. The press has eaten up every ounce of my story and my house has been surrounded by the flashing cameras of doom since I left the hospital. I mentally want to strangle each and every one of them for making such a big deal out of my personal life, but in order to maintain my appearances and good graces with the media, I need to play nice. The only solace I've found during the constant attention from Brigette and braidment of press interviews, have been my mini-trips to Two Cups Cafe and my hikes through the trails that run along the outskirts of Whitefish Lake. I was hesitant to venture back into the woods after being taken there against my will, but after a bit of inner thought and meditation, I wasn't willing to let Damien's actions steal away the joy and inner happiness that being in the Montana forests brings me. Plus, my writing always seems to improve after a good hike.