At last! I am actually touching words that are my own (which sounds kinda weird, actually). I am editing to provide CLARITY and CONTINUITY*. And to make sure not as many people throw my book against the wall if it indeed gets sold, published and distributed.

I am still reading the same book I started a week ago. It’s odd not to be plowing through books. The rotten side-effect of a busy life.

Oh, and have I mentioned I am now averaging two pots of coffee, one pot of tea, and one can of diet Coke a day? Is it possible for one’s bloodstream to be made entirely of caffeine?

Megan

*My own interpretation of my agent’s notes. She was more specific, and not as generally damning. Yeah, welcome to my inner life.

I might have actually drunk too much coffee. I am actually JITTERY today.

How bizarre is that?!?

The Picky Vegetarian is in town, and today is “our day,” which means coffee, cupcakes, vegan food, lots and lots of chatter and a fair amount of walking. Yay. Tomorrow is “our night,” which means kung pao vegetarian, Book Lovers’ Trivial Pursuit–a Powell’s employee and an obsessive reader–yeah, we’re cutthroat. You try to play against us, and you will get served.
I’ve always had incredible friends, and this one is the incrediblest. Plus she has the best handwriting, which is a nice bonus when you get a card from her.

And it’s Clive’s birthday, which I only know by accident, since I’m not that freaky.

So all in all, a good day.

It is raining like a moose today: Thunder, lightning, the works.

And we have no milk in the house*.

So the Son and I must brave the elements, because a No-Coffee Mommy is a Terrible Thing to see.

Megan
*There WAS milk, but I just used it up in my most recent cup of coffee. So no need to send the cows over immediately; sometime today is all I’m saying.

You know it’s rough when the highlight of your day is discovering the lukewarm coffee in the coffeepot, left over from the morning.

Did you know, even if you consume an entire (8+ cups) pot of coffee and two diet Cokes, if you are sleep-deprived enough you can still pass out at any moment?

I did.

I am editing Road To Passion, and am now worried because I like it so much already, unedited. Am I too enamoured of my story? Can I not see its essential suckiness because it’s mine? I do have some themes to riff on, layering them more deeply into the story: The hero as devil, scars, a dead brother’s watch, and of course the inherent problems a vicar’s daughter will discover when she finds out she’s a fount of passion.

Ah, the problems I have.

So the plan is to edit, then send to two of my faux critique partners. One of them is sure to let me know if my story is just plain Suck in an Empire Gown.

Megan