Yesterday, I crafted a RegEx that finds double words (aka “the the”). This is something that’s pretty useless if you write or edit in a relatively recent word processor — and maybe I’d better start doing an edit pass in one of those — but I share it here in case it’s useful to you.

(\b[A-z’‘’]+\b]) \1

Don’t do a replace-all with that. Until you’re confident it’s not picking up false positives … and probably not even then.

Not every RegEx implementation will allow you to reference a capture group inside the search term so be sure to intentionally put a “the the” in the text somewhere to make sure it’s working correctly for you.

If I get a moment, I’ll explain what it’s doing so you can make adjustments if you need to.

#AmWriting #AmEditing #WritingCommunity #Writing #RegEx

Yesterday, I crafted a RegEx that finds double words (aka “the the”). This is something that’s pretty useless if you write or edit in a relatively recent word processor — and maybe I’d better start doing an edit pass in one of those — but I share it here in case it’s useful to you.

(\b[A-z’‘’]+\b]) \1

Don’t do a replace-all with that. Until you’re confident it’s not picking up false positives … and probably not even then.

Not every RegEx implementation will allow you to reference a capture group inside the search term so be sure to intentionally put a “the the” in the text somewhere to make sure it’s working correctly for you.

If I get a moment, I’ll explain what it’s doing so you can make adjustments if you need to.

#AmWriting #AmEditing #WritingCommunity #Writing #RegEx

Did it! Finished editing Last Lady of Luna AND got the pronunciation guide done!

Tomorrow I'll run a quick spellcheck and start on layout and shit.

For now, work is done for the day. Gonna get some housework done, have dinner, and go for a walk.

#AmEditing#L3#Victory

stardew was fun and relaxing. Now I'm back to work, editing Last Lady of Lună. I should finish edits in the next hour. Woot!

#AmEditing#L3

"Is that what you call it?" Nastasia snorted. "You became distant. Silent. You went on duty, and everything stopped. Karen even stopped asking to see my knives."

Karen meeped and jumped on Nastasia. "I forgot about the sharps! Damn it, I forgot about the sharps." She buried her face in Nastasia's neck, and Leyla would have said something, but Nastasia pulled her close. "I'm sorry. Work messes with my brain."

Leyla sighed. "I'm starting to think it messes with all our brains."
---
4,300 words done on The Last Lady of Lună. Gonna take that nap, but may come back and do more later.

#AmEditing#L3#Snippet

Got some good work done on The Last Lady of Lună today -- about 5700 words done.

Less than 10,000 words left for the read aloud edit, so should be done by Friday.

#AmEditing#L3

"Woven fabric always makes me think of a square-net without holes." Ey continued to Chotaikytsai, "But you talk about 'looms' that were as wide as your arm. That's nothing like netmaking."

They spent the rest of the night talking about rope-making and village life. The next night, Chotaikytsai pulled out a little child's loom that was the only loom saved from the fire. Kyawtchais gave eir yarn, and the short-one showed them how to thread the warp and send the shuttle through to build the weft. The silent-one watched in fascination, and Kyawtchais thought it a pity the city had no room for another weaving family.
----
About 3000 words edited today. Yay progress!

#PlantingLife#Snippet#AmEditing

It's going well, I think. My current focus is editing, but Rai and I recently started re-drafting one of our stories from last winter. Progress and some fun on all sides.

Here's my most recent snippet from Planting Life:

They finished raising that section – the entire house-to-be now had walls to the height of eir knees – and Kyawtchais gratefully stood and stretched eir back. Spinning was not idle work, but a full day at the walls used more and different muscles than Kyawtchais was used to.

That, too, was like creating a family.

Together, Kyawtchais went with the gruff-one and silent-one to the outside hearth. Today, ey would stay for dinner.

#Snippet#AmEditing#PlantingLife

2000 words edited today. Less than usual, but progress still counts.

---
Kyawtchais' Cenn had loved the trees. Loved them enough that in spite of the risks, ey had insisted on going out into the forest when eir contractions began. Penpy had a common name – dawn. Ey insisted eir child would have a name that meant something more than the time of day ey had been born.

Penpy had gotten eir wish. Deep in the forest at night, attended by fearful healers and hired guards, ey had given birth. The moment the child had left eir body, eir eyes had been locked on the foxfire glow only seen by those who dared the woods at night. Kyawtchaisawt, the cold fire was called. Kyawtchais, then, became eir infant's name.

It was a name that spoke of mystery, of secret things, of deep darkness.

#AmEditing#Snippet#Fantasy#PlantingLife

Planting Life in a Dying City is not a love story in the traditional sense. But there is so much love in this story.

----
"I hope the day comes when you can give yourself to me as well. But you have shown me that you accept me as I am. I know if that day never comes, it will be because of your grief and not, as with others, because you reject me." Kolchais smiled and felt the smile to the depths of eir soul. Ey knew Lefeng now. Knew eir spouse-to-be as ey had known few others. Ey would grieve, yes, for a long time. But when ey was ready to move, ey would not be stopped.

Kolchais turned to face the night sky with Lefeng, the stars that guided the farwalkers and boatfolk in their journeys. When the day came, Lefeng would find Kolchais still here, steady as the stars themselves, which never stopped moving, but were always where you needed them to be. "How can I be angry that you grieve them? When it only shows me how great your soul is and how strongly you value those you love."

Slowly, Lefeng leaned over until eir head rested against Kolchais. Together, they watched the night sky.

"Perhaps one day, you can take me to the mountains. Show me how the stars are meant to look."

"I would like that."

"The spinner could come too."

"I think ey loves eir markets, the way I loved the mountains."

"Yes. But ey could still come if ey wants."

"Yes."

#AmEditing#Snippet#Fantasy

Singing… it was a private thing. A family's songs were shared only with their most trusted friends and, sometimes, extended family.

They were family.

In time they would make new songs, but for now, it was right that they share the songs of their childhoods.

When it was eir turn, Kolchais shared one of eir good memories from eir childhood – a song of wind and running eir Baba had taught em while they worked the family garden together.

----

About 3,000 words edited on Planting Life in a Dying City, almost done with Kolchais' section of the story.

They are learning how to build a family together!

#AmEditing#Snippet#PlantingLife

3000 words edited and finally got to introduce Kyawtchais, my PoV autistic character.

----
Three or four or five sound fibres at a time. Ey separated them from the mass so ey could put meaning to them. Then twisted them into the whole thread of memory. When one sound-fibre ran out, another picked up to take its place.

It was as hard as spinning the linen thread in eir hands was reflexive. But like the spindle, once ey started, ey couldn't just 'stop.' The momentum of the spin needed to run out. If you tried to grab the spindle mid-spin, the friction of it would sting your hand.

The sound-fibres held em tightly, as tightly as the linen fibres wrapped the spindle. So the first sign ey had that anything was wrong was the hand closing on eir shoulder and knocking em to the ground.

#AmEditing #fantasy#OwnVoices

3000 words edited and finally got to introduce Kyawtchais, my PoV autistic character.

----
Three or four or five sound fibres at a time. Ey separated them from the mass so ey could put meaning to them. Then twisted them into the whole thread of memory. When one sound-fibre ran out, another picked up to take its place.

It was as hard as spinning the linen thread in eir hands was reflexive. But like the spindle, once ey started, ey couldn't just 'stop.' The momentum of the spin needed to run out. If you tried to grab the spindle mid-spin, the friction of it would sting your hand.

The sound-fibres held em tightly, as tightly as the linen fibres wrapped the spindle. So the first sign ey had that anything was wrong was the hand closing on eir shoulder and knocking em to the ground.

#AmEditing #fantasy#OwnVoices

3000 words edited and we are well into Kolchais' part of the story. Kolchais was one of the characters that hurt the most to write, as eir internalized ableism hit far to close to home.

---

As it got close to sundown, Kolchais was forced to move even slower than usual, stopping to rest ever more often. Ey wanted to take the time to get to know the spinner, but just breathing was almost too much. Finally, when it was time to position the foundation beams, Paiokp insisted that Kolchais and the spinner allow em and Lefeng to do the lifting. And Kolchais couldn't argue. Once again, failing to do eir part.

The spinner abruptly took eir leave, barely taking time to say goodbye. Kolchais worried for a moment that Paiokp had offended them, but didn't have the current left to worry about it. Ey barely managed to eat dinner and went to sleep early.

The next morning, Kolchais remained wrapped in eir blankets until almost sun-high. When ey finally got up, it was only to move to huddle near the coals. How long, ey wondered, until they had a proper hearth again?

#PlantingLife#AmEditing#DisabledCharacter

Finished Tsouchm's section of Planting Life in a Dying City.

Plotwise, about a third of the way done, word-wise a bit more than that.

#AmEditing#PlantingLife