That's it? You write an entire book and that's it? Damn. You go, woman.

Yup. This is the least amount of edits or changes or fixes other than Plainsong in my entire career. Weaver took a massive rewrite, not because Ruth didn't love the writing - she loves my voice, and actually used me as an example of it in a book she wrote an essay for - but because it was originally written partly in the present day, and partly in period, showing the events leading up to the crime: letting the reader know what the characters had to find out before the characters found out. She wanted it all in the modern era, all the emphasis on Ringan and Penny and the moderns; as she said, the interesting thing about the ghosts was that they were dead.

So I went "ping ping ping" and wrote 86 pages of new stuff in three days, and she bought it. Fun, major fun, and I loved the race. But work.

This one? The initial copy edit corrections were misplaced accent marks in some of the French (a result of my unfamiliarity with the "special characters" feature of the software), an inversion in a famous phrase - I'd written "When Adam delved and Eva span, who then was the gentleman?" because I always parse the damned thing musically, and it works better in my head than "...who was then the gentleman?" does. But it's historically wrong, and I was ashamed of myself, because I wrote one of my two theses on John of Gaunt, for fuck's sake - and some typos.

Painless. I have no clue how she's going to feel about Matty; when I get some genuine beta feedback, I can get started on looking at what's needed before my agent and editor see it.

Luckily? I'm early. Way, waaaay early. As in, eight months early.

edited for pre-coffee typing.

Deb, I'm behind on everything. Early part of this week, Greg has time off and we're taking the kidlets to the zoo and scheduling some married couple time. I also have to do a little of the paid work that I promised or I'll just be embarrassed. I do plan, however, to have Matty back to you by next Sunday or so, if that's okay. If you need it sooner, let me know and I'll make it happen.

Deena, nope, that wasn't a nod-wink-ahem thing; the time away from the book is good for me. When I get stuff back, I have to go back into it and read it, both in parts and in whole, considering the feedback and seeing where things coincide. I like at least two weeks after finishing a book before I do that, to freshen my own take.

No probs, m'dear. No probs at all. Take your time, truly.

Oh, and did I mention that Plei's and ita's tied up together (no, I do not mean porn, thank you) beautifully in my head? ANd that this:

"Seven years of bad luck," she thought. "I wonder if I'll notice the difference."

nearly killed me?

Jeeeeeeeepers.

Me too... thought of tagging it.

Here's one, a genuine memory. The title says it all:

Loma Prieta

The first crash from the bedroom should have warned me.

Fifteen years later, I'm still unsure as to what fell first, and afterward? There was too much broken glass, from too many fragile former possessions, to sort out the chronology. I was in the living room; I'd just had a lump removed from one breast and I was groggy from the drugs.

But I heard that first crash, and lifted my head, in time to see the microwave cart go sailing by.

After that, it was straight into the kitchen doorway, feeling the ground heave, glass breaking all around me.

The title says it all:

No. Shit. Very nice, Deb.

Heh. Thanks, Sean. My memories of that quake are reeeeeally fucking fuzzy.

Nothing like being doped up during a 7.1 quake to remember the odder bits of it.

{{Erika}} I can't imagine why the person didn't have the taste to accept your story, but arse 'em in the ear and keep sending. You write brilliantly.

Deb, didn't think you were doing the wink, nudge. Just wanted to let you know why I was slow while I was thinking about it.

I want all your muse(s) to belong to me. There's some amazing stuff in this thread these days. I love it. Kudos to the Tep, again.