It’s January 1st, but I feel none of the optimism I’d been expecting. Probably because taking down Christmas is so much more depressing that putting it up. Also, I hosted a dinner party last night, and one on Saturday night, too. It has been go, go, go and I am very happy to settle back down to writing. I’m also really tired. Too much rich food, too little exercise.
I have three deadlines this month: a chapter I must send today for my critique group, a revision of Blue Heaven by the end of the month, and a post on the 3rd for a blog thingy, I am not sure how it works or what it is called, I only know that I need to post something about a book I consider a personal classic. There are all kinds of prizes and things. And links hither and yon. I’ve not done much partying in the blog world, so I am a little lost. It’s only when I remember I simply have to WRITE that I calm down. I have produced hundreds of pieces of non-fiction on the subject of fiction. I will be fine.
The critique depends on how much of a mess the manuscript is…hoping for a bit of tidying up a scene or two and then a nap. I also promised the editor at my publishing house a substantial re-write of the manuscript by the end of the month. What was I thinking?? I had mistakenly believed I’d be able to work on the revision during the holidays. No. Revision, specific editorial revisions, take chunks of time, daily attention. I’m happy to get back to it, but also feeling pressure too!