Editing

G looked around at the others as they glanced over his draft. Finally, one of them lowered the pages to his lap. G waited expectantly. Slowly, the others did too. No one said anything. He sat there nervously. The silence was overwhelming, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Well?” He asked. “What did you all think?”

Most of them avoided eye contact. A couple shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Pete broke the silence with a defeated sigh. He ran his hand through his hair and turned to G.

“Look, I guess I’ll be the one to say it,” Pete started, “it’s… not your best work.”

G’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean? I think this is some of the best stuff I’ve ever written! There’s action, drama, a great pre-apocalyptic setup leading to the ultimate fall of man. Why don’t you like it?”

“It’s not that we don’t like it,” Joe chimed in. “The idea you described sounds great! It’s just… lacking a bit in execution. I feel there are better ways you could have done some of the buildup.”

“What do you mean?” G asked.

“It’s not realistic!” Mary exclaimed, exasperated.

Mary had the least patience when it came to these things. G loved and hated that about her. She would always be honest with you, but she wouldn’t sugarcoat anything.

“Well, it’s apocalyptic so-”

“That doesn’t matter,” she sighed. “Look, supernatural presence or not it still needs to seem believable. It seems like your slowly dumbing down the characters and then tossing a clusterfuck of problems at them all at once.”

“Every story needs conflict, Mary,” G grumbled. 

“Conflict is having another world war like you wrote in the beginning,” Pete responded. “Which, by the way, you seemed to completely abandon within the first few chapters.”

“I didn’t like that direction anymore, it’s been done!” G whined.

“Well, so have plagues, but you seem to be milking that a lot,” Paul said, flipping through the pages. “It’s, like, ninety percent of your story right now. Also, where the hell did it come from? Is it a chemical weapon they were going to use for that war?”

“Chemical weapon?” Mary asked, confused. She picked up the story. “Wait, did they actually make it? I thought it was a government manufactured hoax to distract citizens from their collapsing economical system?”

“Where the fuck did you see that?!” Pete said, flipping through the pages. “I thought it was from animals. You know, the bats?”

“Bats again?!” Mary asked, frustrated. “Come on! Why do you hate those things so much? They’ve caused, like, three separate diseases in your previous works.”

“The bats aren’t the point,” G said, frustrated “They’re a tool for delivery of the disease, nothing more.”

“Then why not use something more interesting to deliver it?” Joe asked. “Honestly, I liked Paul and Mary’s ideas of a conspiracy more. Plus, then it ties into that whole war thing in the beginning.”

“I’m not trying to make a war story, I-”

“While we’re on the subject of unnecessary plot devices, what the hell was with those bugs you brought in?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, those hornets!” Paul cried, remembering. “I forgot about them. You made them into this huge thing, then they just… disappeared? What’s with that?”

“Look, I’m trying to do a modern take on the original plagues of Egypt,” G explained. “You know darkness, disease, swarms of insects, etc.”

“Yeah, but there were ten plagues,” Mary commented. “You’ve only done about four or five, and the allusion is pretty weak. If you didn’t tell me Egypt, I would not have seen Egypt.”

G sat with his arms crossed. He glared a bit. Did everyone have to be so critical? He'd worked hard on what he had written. Joe seemed to sense how upset he was.

“I do like some of the ideas,” Joe piped up. “The countries collapsing internally first before the global collapse is a cool idea.”

“I did like that, actually,” Mary said, nodding in agreement.

“Also, the apocalyptic angle isn’t bad,” Paul said, looking at the pages. “The way you approached the idea is good. I just think instead of trying to ‘mimic the ten plagues’ you should choose a couple that you really connect with.”

“Yeah, the disease isn’t a bad idea,” Pete said. “It just doesn’t need to be the bulk of your writing. It’s kind of boring to have people trapped at home for most of the story. Let them out and then introduce something worse than isolation. It would really add to the drama without it seeming too forced.”

G kept his arms crossed. “Anything else?”

It was easy to see G was fuming. He was always really defensive about his work. The others gave each other small glances. Afraid to comment more. They really did want to help make his writing better, to bring it to its full potential, and create something wonderful.

“Well…” Mary started. 

G glared daggers in her direction. She thought about staying silent, it might make things easier, but she really wanted to help him. She let out a sigh, refusing to look at him.

“Did you need to set Australia on fire?” She asked quietly.

“Oh, screw you!” G cried, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Well, unless the whole point is they are the only country to survive this plague and rebuild, then why even bother adding it?” She asked, exasperated.

“You know what? This seems like the time to tell you all,” G said angrily, standing. “I already submitted it!”

A chorus of frustrated sighs and disappointed groans chorused around him. He stood with his arms crossed, fuming. 

“God, why are you so dramatic?!” Mary shouted.

“Well, I’m God, it’s my world, and I’ll do whatever I want with it!” He shouted, storming out.

Peter, Paul, Mary, and Joseph looked around at each other. They opened a vision of Earth in front of them. Mary sighed and rubbed her temples. 

“Looks like they’re in June now,” she muttered.

“It’s worse than I ever thought it would be,” Paul said, burying his face in his hands.

“Why did we think talking with him would be a good idea exactly?” Joseph asked.

“To prevent this,” Peter sighed, motioning vaguely to Earth. “Looks like we’re too late.”

The saints stared down at the chaotic world that was now Earth. Pity filled their hearts as they did so. After all, they’d read what God had written. They knew exactly what those poor humans were in for next.