I sent my firstborn away from home tonight. Her clothes were a bit rumpled because she was so worried about being late she flew out the door without ironing. And she’s nervous about her teacher not liking her. And I’m worried about her out there all alone. My crit partner doesn’t call me Rain Man for nothin’.
Yeah, I’m talking about the book. ROYAL STREET‘s first revisions=DONE, and it’s gone back to my editor at Tor. I could’ve used another year to polish and tweak. Then again, I’ve polished and tweaked till I’m having flulike symptoms.
I have 17 hours of DVR’d drivel to watch, a big freelance job waiting in the wings, and two other novels in various stages of undress.
Life is good.