Minor edit, names

content/_index.md

@@ -23,7 +23,7 @@ img {
 <a href="https://makyo-ink.square.site/product/motes-played/17" target="_blank">Pre-order paperback</a> 
 </p>
 
-### Note
+### Content Notes
 
 This book relies on the plots of The Post-Self Cycle, particularly [*Mitzvot*](https://mitzvot.post-self.ink). It is strongly recommended that you read those works first. They may all be found [here](https://post-self.ink/cycle) as paperbacks, ebooks, and free to read in the browser. If you would prefer to jump right in, spoilers be damned, you can find a primer [here](/primer).
 
@@ -31,29 +31,28 @@ The tilde (~) is the punctuation mark of whimsy and on this I will not be swayed
 
 Further thoughts on Motes may be found [here](/thoughts-on-motes).
 
-### Content notes:
-
 Contains mentions of rough, but consensual sex with one vague description; blood; adult characters engaging with the world as children, unrelated to sex; themes of familial abuse.
 
------
+## Advance Praise
 
-### About the authors
+> There's not that much literature out there that touches on this sort of 5-12 year old kidcore aesthethic and it was nice to see it done so beautifully. I absolutely loved it, it's up there with some of my favorite pieces.
+>
+> — Faux
 
-![Print by Forrest Gerke](https://makyo.ink/assets/img/headshot.png)
+## About the authors
 
-Madison Scott-Clary is a transgender writer, editor, and software engineer. She focuses on furry fiction and non-fiction, using that as a framework for interrogating the concept of self and exploring across genres. A graduate of the Regional Anthropomorphic Writers Workshop in 2021, hosted by Kyell Gold and Dayna Smith, she holds an MFA in creative writing and education from Cornell College in Mount Vernon, IA. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her dog, as well as her partner, who is sometimes a dog.
+<!--![Print by Forrest Gerke](https://makyo.ink/assets/img/headshot.png)-->
+
+Madison Rye Progress and Fireheart are a couple of gay nerds living in the mountains with their dog.
+<!--is a transgender writer, editor, and software engineer. She focuses on furry fiction and non-fiction, using that as a framework for interrogating the concept of self and exploring across genres. A graduate of the Regional Anthropomorphic Writers Workshop in 2021, hosted by Kyell Gold and Dayna Smith, she holds an MFA in creative writing and education from Cornell College in Mount Vernon, IA. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her dog, as well as her partner, who is sometimes a dog.-->
 
 <p style="text-align: center"><a href="https://makyo.ink" target="_blank">makyo.ink</a></p>
-
------
-
-The Lament is a median system dedicated to the bittersweet in life, in storytelling, and in kink...
-
 <p style="text-align: center"><a href="https://cohost.org/hamratza" target="_blank">cohost.org/hamratza</a></p>
 
-### Acknowledgements {#acknowledgements .unnumbered}
 
-Thanks, as always, to the polycule, who have been endlessly supportive, but most especially to The Lament, so many of whose words appear within this book. Thanks as well as to Tomash, Ellen, Andréa, and all the rest of the Post-Self community, who have helped build this lovely world, and to Lilium who made me think most about the impact of my work.
+## Acknowledgements {#acknowledgements .unnumbered}
+
+Thanks, as always, to the polycule, who have been endlessly supportive, but most especially to Fireherat, so many of whose words appear within this book. Thanks as well as to Tomash, Ellen, Andréa, and all the rest of the Post-Self community, who have helped build this lovely world, and to Lilium who made me think most about the impact of my work.
 
 Thanks also to my patrons:
 

content/draft/006.md

@@ -176,7 +176,7 @@ Whenever Motes would visit Michelle/Sasha, or she would visit Le Rêve, their ne
 
 After all, some secret part of her reasoned, even little skunks need a grandma, though this was a term she never spoke aloud.
 
-Their relationship was as friends, as companions or comrades. They shared a childhood together. They had the same parents and teachers. They remembered so many of the same things from youth. They remembered so many of the same people. They remembered Miss Willard together, red paint ground into corduroy.
+Their relationship was as friends, as companions or comrades. They shared a childhood together. They remembered so many of the same things from youth. They remembered so many of the same people. They had the same parents and teachers. They remembered Miss Willard together, red paint ground into corduroy.
 
 Their relationship was as friends, and as Motes grew into who she became, the ways in which this presented shifted to accommodate such.
 
@@ -188,7 +188,7 @@ Michelle/Sasha very rarely wore claw or nail polish, thanks to the shifting of h
 
 They would talk of the small things and, when all claws or nails had been colored pink or blue or ever-shifting waves of green, they would roll onto their backs and pick out shapes in the clouds and Michelle/Sasha would tell Motes all of the things she would have done with her kids, had she had any. Flower crowns: a must. Story time: most definitely. Sleepovers and pillow-forts: a thousand times yes.
 
-All of these and more Motes provided for her in spades as chances, opportunities.
+All of these and more Motes provided for her in spades as chances, occasions, opportunities.
 
 Motes would explain all of the ways she would get in trouble — lying? Check. Punching a boy for calling her stinky? Check. Drawing on the walls? Check, in bold-face and italics — and for each one of them, Sasha/Michelle would counter with the most poetic of punishments: when Motes lied, she would make her live within a cone of silence for a whole day, so that no untruths could be heard. When Motes punched a boy for calling her stinky, Michelle/Sasha would take her with when she went shopping for perfumes and make her smell each and every one of them. When Motes drew on the walls, why, all other projects would need to be put on hold and she would simply have to keep going until every inch of the room was covered with the most beautiful art she had ever seen.