Remember I said last week that I was going to send Book 2 (still unnamed, though I do have a couple of ideas now) through to the lovely, and inimitable, Jane and Sarah so they’d have it on Monday? I lied.
Fiona declared Saturday a ‘day of rest’ as I’ve been hunched, troll-like in front of this darn computer all day and all night for what seems like years. So Saturday was not to be a day for fiddling with words, Saturday was to be a day of ‘doing other things’… Quite what I have no idea. It is a deep shame to admit it: I don’t know how to relax any more. I’m so used to working on something or other, that when I get an allocated ‘day of rest’ it becomes a ‘day of unrest’, where I spend the whole bloody time wandering from room to room, looking for a job to do. In the end I settled on trying to make a sign for the house, as the magic marker on a sheet of A4 attempt currently ducktaped to the front door doesn’t convey quite the right note of class. So out with the imitation Dremel-thing and a merry, if bloody freezing, afternoon is spent on the veranda creating huge plumes of sawdust and lead paint. And there was still loads of time left over for more wandering around aimlessly. Hurrah! But no writing got done, not on Saturday either as it was the Big-Family-Dinner-Thing.
Now if I weren’t such a picky bugger, I would just parcel up the book and fire it off anyway. Sod the edits. Jane and Sara are going to ask for changes anyway (wouldn’t be good editors if they didn’t) so why do a round now when I’m just going to have to do more later? Because I don’t want to let them down. I have a lot of respect for my editorial team – they’re a lot brighter than I am for a start – and the thought of putting something in front of them that isn’t as good as I can make it, makes me very uncomfortable. So I’m going to hang on for an extra couple of days and iron out some of the things that are wrinkly before sending it away.
Have to get my skates on though: times a tickin’!