Offering Editing Services 

Hello everyone,

Beginning today I’m offering editing services for anyone who needs something edited! 😀😀 Please share this among yourselves, and let me know if you have questions! 🙂

Editing Services

Are you looking for a professional to write and edit something of yours? A poem, short story or manuscript or any other documents? Are you on the verge of sending something into a publisher and need another’s eye about what you have written? You’ve come to the right place! I will edit and proofread your documents while providing free feedback and criticism to you at a single cost.

Why Me?
I have a Bachelor of Arts degree in English with an emphasis on Writing. I also fourteen years of my own experience, including college, to professionally give you a good writing and editing approach.

How does it work?
You contact me via email or social media with your attached document you would like edited. If it is a short story or manuscript, I will provide free constructive criticism in comments throughout the work. Constructive criticism is nothing personal against you or your work, but something critics give on a regular basis. It is not mean feedback, but honest, creative, and direct feedback. I will give you honest and creative approach that will be most beneficial to you and your work. Examples of things I’d comment on is research done for something in the story, or POV aspects.

What do you look for when editing?
Sentence structure, grammar, punctuation, spelling, POV within paragraphs, and that the paragraphs are indented correctly. When editing, I will also determine what readers would like about certain parts.

What is the cost?
Manuscripts; books of poetry or short stories – $50
Individual poems or other documents- $20

How do I pay?
Through PayPal, find my account under name Jenna Kinzler (brown hair with black sweater and scarf), and send to this account. Otherwise, I can give you my address and you can send a check.
How long will it take? (Depending upon project):
Manuscripts- 2-3 weeks
Other – 3-5 days

I will not accept material about or eluding to the erotic or sexual nature which includes bestiality, rape, incest, or alternative lifestyles. Also, please only submit works that carries as little profanity as possible. If you have any questions about these, since there may be exceptions, please contact me. It is better to ask questions than to miss out on an incredible opportunity for your work to be edited professionally.

Need more info?
Please contact me via one of my social media pages seen here, or by my email:

Thank you! I look forward to working with you all! I promise you it’ll be a rewarding and exciting experience for both of us!


The Significance of the Tree in My Backyard

Hello everyone,


Are you a poet and don’t know it? Or do you know it? What are your thoughts on poetry in general?


At age 12, I wrote a poem, my very first poem, called, “The Tree in My Backyard.” It won a blue ribbon at the county fair when I presented it framed years later. It hung on a wall in my apartment too in my single years.


Here’s the poem:


*The Tree in My Backyard
There’s a tree in my backyard—
oh, yes, oh, yes, it’s true.
It’s been in the family forever,
just like the other ones too.
The bark is brown, the leaves are green,
tall as can be, but stubby as a gene.
It shades us from the sun,
warms us from the cold,
and when we wanna play,
my friends and I circle around it.
But, sad to say, it’s dying.
It has no strength any more.
And now that I am watching,
as Dad hauls it away with his truck,
I shall miss that tree.
That tree in my backyard.
When I go by other trees
I’ll proudly smile, with glee…
Good-bye, old tree: the tree in my backyard.
I know, I know, this poem is totally cheesy or corny, right? Well, yeah, since I wrote this poem when I was 12 when I didn’t exactly know how to write a poem compared to now. But if you think about it, there’s quite a story hidden between the lines of this poem.
When I presented it to the county fair, I remember the judge asking me, “So, explain what this poem is really about.”
I said: “Well, it’s basically about a tree in the family’s backyard that eventually dies and they have to get rid of it, but it has a certain value to the family.”
The judge responded: “Oh. Well, what kind of value does it have? Explain this to me, please. Why is this tree so important to this family? What makes a tree so significant to any particular family?”
Oof, she was asking hard questions.
I remember the summer of 2001, the year I wrote this exact poem. There was an actual tree in our backyard, surrounded by numerous other trees since we lived in the country, and I kind of liked this tree. I noticed it when I was playing in the backyard one day. It wasn’t anything special. It was a regular oak tree. It looked like a teenager tree, where it’d once been a baby tree the year before. I believe I even asked my mom about it, and she said that it’d always been there and wasn’t anything new. This tree wasn’t very tall, and it definitely did not have a sturdy, hugely thick base to it. Or just a small little tree that seemed to be all by itself, standing before all the other trees like it didn’t matter compared to the rest.
But one day, I went and visited this tree, and it had broken in half. I’m not sure if a storm had gotten to it or what, but the tree was completely gone, so my dad literally had to carry it away.
So I suppose the moral of the tree story is this: be grateful for the time you have on this earth and be blessed and confident about the blessings in your life. When you’re angry or sad, don’t be afraid. God will cheer you up and turn your life upside down in positive ways! You need only to be patient. 🙂 Because every broken path in one’s life God heals back together in time. He just has to teach us some kind of lesson along the way.
This is similar to what I told the judge, and now, this is what I’m telling you. My hope is that it helps you with whatever struggle you’re currently dealing with. It definitely gives me hope as I pan through life’s latest dark struggles. But I can see the light at the end of the tunnel! Hope is coming! It is on its way! 🙂
And when that light comes, there will be plenty of beautiful, plentiful trees to fill all the dark, sad ones and take their places.
Enjoy your week 🙂
MK~ 🙂

It’s Raining Poetry!


Are you a poet? Have you written numerous poetry throughout your life? If you’re a frequent visitor here, you know very well that I keep a monthly poem page to share my poetry with others and make a true difference 🙂 

I think of Edgar Allan Poe when poetry comes to mind. I’m sure all of you remember “The Raven” and the darkly ironic words that could only come straight from Poe’s mind. I liked his poetry. My favorite poets are Emily Dickinson and Dr. Suess. These three have very rhythmic, story-like poetry. I base my love for poetry from this. I write a lot of stories in my poetry. Otherwise I find it relatively boring. My first poem, for example, was about my favorite tree in my backyard at home and how it gradually died. It won a blue ribbon at the county fair. I had it framed too. 

Lately I’ve been mulling over a lot of different things in my life while trying to stay strong and grow closer to the Lord through trials I’ve been experiencing. I firmly believe such trials help us grow 🙂 So I decided to write a poem about it that I’ve decided to share with you this week. I will put it as the monthly poem for March as well. I should point out though that most of the time, my poems do not rhyme. But that’s also the beauty of poetry too. I hope you all enjoy it and the rest of your week 🙂 


By Jenna Kinzler 

Silence! Can you hear it? 

Can you hear the whispers in the naked darkness? Echoing my thoughts, causing me to ponder longer. 

It all starts with a sign, a whisper, 

God telling me to begin and then begin again, 

To breathe again will be a beautiful adventure. 

To live for real will be the true test of time, 

Whether I’ve truly faced all the demons lurking there, beneath the surface of the trials. 

Can I still hear the voiceless promise? 

Maybe someday it’ll appear for real. 

The calm before the storm is always haunting me, pushing me on. 

My love for him is still my greatest love, my greatest moment and truest ally. 

Coffee is a reminder sometimes. 

The ghost drives me hoping and then is suddenly laughing, then abruptly swept up, falling up, up, up into the torpedo storm, into the future possibly where it is no longer there. 

I try to grasp for it, fighting to hold on tight, but it disappears and then I am alone again. 

Until God reminds me He is still with me endlessly. 

I will fight, I will work 

Until the time of sunset is there, 

Where I know the contentment of where I truly belong

And then there will be no ending, no reminder always with me.

All that’ll remain is a perfect, beautiful song.