Oh, be sure, I'm going on with life. Writing (broke 50K on book 2 last week, I have 4 and a half chapters left to go for the first draft). I am supposed to have page proofs arriving any second now, which is my last chance to change anything on book 1. Talking typos, punctuation, nothing major. We should also have ARCS sometime before the end of the month. Squee!
Been taking care of kiddo (who just swiped these awesome freaking mitts from Dr. Gita, contrary to my very loud protests):
Gita has promised to knit me a pair, if I pick out some yarn that I like.
Bought some to-die-for cute shoes:
Hubby says "You'll never wear those!" Au contraire! For these shoes, I will build an outfit. (It may or may not involve dressing up as a Hatter for Halloween this year. Steampunk Hatter, anyone?)
And yet, there seems to be so many things that aren't getting done. I have a list of blog posts I want to do, addressing some questions people have asked me, and some questions I've asked myself. The moment that Book 2 is off to betas (goal: before the end of March), I want to yank Muse off the shelf and get her polished up and off to The Agent. Finish last year's Nano novel, and revise, because I think it has REAL potential to go places. Outline Book 3.
And somehow, in the midst of all this, I find myself with less than four months to the release of A Devil in the Details. Holy crap, when did this happen! Was it really just a year ago (almost to the day, the mind boggles) that I got that call from The Agent "We have an offer".
Back then, a year and a half to book-on-shelf seemed forever. Now I'm wondering if I got kidnapped by aliens and lost several months.
