An editor? When you need one.


Writers make rough editors. We clean out our mistakes from a manuscript, and write in whole new batches of them. Another writer looking at your work, puts in their version of your story. It is >your< world.

So you think you need a professional editor. Five cents a word. Not bad… but you have one-hundred thousand words. That gets expensive. So you stick it out. It’s not so bad, right?

Then you have something you have found a flaw?  The more you clean it up, the more errors you find.

When you are about to give up, you resign yourself to keep it on the back burner. ¬†It eats at the back of your brain. ¬†You see the flaws, but those that are your family pat you on the head and tell you “Everybody dreams.”

Some people you come across say they can take a look. Then run a spellcheck on it and say it’s perfect.

Um… no, it’s not.

Slowly, as a writer, you fix a few things, but you know you are blind to the flaws. Mom says this is good and is excited.

Then, maybe, fortune wanders into your library of “Someday could be’s.”

The person asks “Can I take a look?”

Sure. You and 20 other people.

Only this one.  This person they find a flaw and tell you..then another. They pronounce it good, but would you send them the composition and they would look at it.

What the heck. Shrug. Go for it.  What few flaws you can find, if you catch the ones I have given up on.

And the list grows. (Insert boggle here)

This person makes you excited again.  You still need to write and you do.  But this person makes it a happy thing and you begin to obsess.

“Let’s get it done!”

This editor makes you more proud of what you have created than any time in the past.  You begin to think there might be a living at this!  Maybe get a professional editor!

Then you find out that the editor that works on your books, they are indeed an English Lit major and is days from getting a degree.

An awesome twist of fate, no?

Well it goes on now.

I would like to introduce you to the editor, CEO and degree holding (She goes for her official graduation in May) She shares a soul, pulls no punches, is honest and fast. Another author friend of Poffpublishing here in WP world also takes of this young woman’s skills and spirit.

If you need a manuscript to be looked over. ¬†To have a person with increasing skills. ¬†She will polish your manuscript and improve your satisfaction. ¬†She’ll cover a broad range of issues.

Contact L. Barnhill here on

A good soul, she holds her degree and we have cheered (Poffpublishing and myself) her on.  Now so is a degree holding editor who is gaining confidence, along with her friendship. I recommend her for your budget editing needs.

Use her schooling, her skills and her frustratingly accurate comments of “Huh?” .

So be warned.  She pulls no punches. But she coats it with love.

Email her with an inquiry as soon as possible. Be part of her growing tree of clients because she is soon in demand by many people.

Two Seconds Chapter 1. T-Minus 5.4×10^12 seconds




T-Minus 5.4×10^12 seconds

Near the core of the stellar object, in a later age called Sol, eight-hundred billion tons of hydrogen reacted in the pressure and the heat fusing the nuclei together creating helium and gamma rays. The high energy photons created began the random walk to the surface. Absorbed and re-emitted at a slightly lower energy each time, the photons slowly made the way to the surface of the sun.

In the times before the creations of humankind orbited the earth, flew the sky or rolled along roads. Before a man or woman’s foot pressed its shape into the mud along a shoreline or in the dust of an arid land. The energy packets called gamma rays struggled their way through the dense interior of the star.

T-Minus 4,162,752,000 Seconds

Night in the year 1880, hours after the sun had gone down, a woman moaned in pain. Midwives walked about doing their assigned duties or speaking to the mother-to-be as the birth pains continued. William Harley paced outside the door. A few times he dared to pull on the handle to peek inside, only to have his life threatened by the women inside.

One of the three men that stood watch with the soon-to-be father, Rev. Frances Knight patted William on the shoulder. “Will be over soon, by the sound of it. The babe is nearly here.”

“It was a good Christmas, this will top the holidays.”

Robert Valance joked, “She’ll never let you back in the bedchambers Will, less than twelve years and five children. She will do you such harm as to make a new chapter in the Good Book.”

“I doubt that, Robert, she is a good church woman.”¬†Frances laughed.

The sound of a crying baby announced the arrival of a new life to the men outside the door.

“Congratulations William.” Francis smiled ¬†moment more.

The opening of the door interrupted the Reverend as a woman stepped out with the newborn.

“It’s a boy.”

William smiled widely. “William Sylvester will be his name. I have named him after myself and Mary’s father.”

In the growing of the child into a youth, William Sylvester met another young man with a curious mind and an active imagination with the talent to design and build what he had in his mind.

Inventions of fish-line winders were always in the young Arthur’s mind. Love of fishing and laughter, the two boys were best of friends always. Even the times they argued, it always ended up with respect and laughter as they shared their lives and secrets between each other.

Excitement occurred when the boys were standing as a man rode up and down the street on a noisy contraption, a “Motor Cycle” he called it.

The boys became excited at the sight and sounds of the two-wheeled infernal machine inspired the boys with a passion for things to come.

In years of college that came, the younger William impressed his professors and teachers of his knack with the engineering skills above many of his peers. The dream from what he had seen with his best friend, Arthur, still lived in his heart.

Together the boys grew into intelligent and daring men and started a company that would inspire heroes and villains alike on the way to becoming legend.