I hope you'll forgive my lack of updates, but I did warn you that May would be my busy month, and here I am in the thick of it. Funny thing is, now that it's actually come, I'm enjoying it. All that angst and dread and drama got expended for nothing!
Last weekend was last chance to make any major corrections to The Changelings, although most of these were cosmetic: grammar, spelling, and minor clarifications. I'd handed out a few proof copies for Beta Readers to look over a month ago and collected them back a week ago; in addition, I went over my own work again for the umpteenth time. Having gathered my data, it was time to imput it. That was as pleasant as doing taxes. It was tedious and boring, yet it required enough concentration that I couldn't watch TV while doing it. I ended up staring at the computer screen for, oh, it must have been five hours on Saturday and another seven on Sunday.
But I finished!
And believe me, that was reward enough. What I dreaded more than anything was not finishing and having to go over the corrections all the way up until Memorial Day Weekend.
Memorial Day weekend I have plans. I'm going to Lightning in a Bottle with my friend Ashley and her boyfriend Matt. In fact, in a few hours I'm going to leave for her house. We're going to leave early Friday morning for the far-off campsite of Bradley, CA (a little north of San Luis Obispo) and stake our tent. Now I've never been to Lightning in a Bottle, but Ashley has and she's spoken enough of it to give me an impression of art and lights and music and community and adventure. So I'm very excited about going and soaking it all in for myself.
Wedged between these two boulder-like weekends, the rest of the week has been a flighty blur of substitute jobs (four of them), packing, baking (vegan bannana muffins, cranberry muffins, butterscotch cookies), packing, chores, and writing. Yes, somehow, I managed to get writing done. It's the end of the school year and sometimes I get assignments where I don't have much to do. During these times, I surreptitiously open my notebook and scribble out a scene or two. Would I prefer three or four hours stretched out on the floor with a cup of hot coffee nearby? Yes. But I've learned not to be picky, and this week, I'm frankly amazed to get any new writing done at all.
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