Something steel grey with pewter and, perhaps, copper undertones. The
color must be shiny, too, so push down real hard on the crayon as you scrape it
across the page.
So what has led to this ode to Crayola?
Me.
Busy, busy me.
Tonight’s Ticker from Madness stands at the perfectly robust…
3,000
words (a total of 21K ready to ship out)
Not only did I get that done, I worked on the blurb for Writhe
(a task, you know, I don’t enjoy in the very least). I got a couple of strong
lines done. Now, whether these additions will make it to the final blurb, I don’t
know. At least, I’ve added some options to the table.
Then, I worked on my author’s website, updating the word meter and
changing up the visitor counter at the bottom of the pages. I’ve also added a
countdown clock to the home page, ticking down the hours and minutes I’ve got
left before Writhe is do at Ravenous Romance.
Oh, but don’t put down your crayons just yet. I’m not done…
Completely out of left field, I got the first edits back for “Ravenscar”
from Dreamspinner Press. Wow! I wasn’t expecting that until at least mid-April.
With 30 stories in queue to be edited for their June Daily Dose release, I
truly hadn’t thought I’d see such a quick turnaround. I’m impressed.
I’m supposed to go through each edit individually, either agreeing to
it or challenging it (that’s standard operating procedure) and return the
corrections by this Sunday. And if I was a normal, sane girl I’d have pounced
right into the project this afternoon…
But…
Yeah, but.
Going through the edits is always the toughest part of the publishing
business for me. A lot of times, I become physically ill at the prospect of it.
(How freaking pitiful is that, huh?)
While the logical, rationally functioning part of my mind isn’t
bothered with being corrected and even appreciating the time the editor spent
sprucing my work up to its very best, those damn nuts in my brain’s back room
have a completely different view of the matter. These views of the edits include,
in no particular order…
A personal affront.
A bitch slap to the face.
A meaty punch to the gut.
Or, worse yet, another big red “F” to put on my life’s report card. (No
kidding, this is the worst. I’ve got some major school hangups I seriously
doubt I’ll ever get over. But that’s neither here nor there, so let’s move on,
shall we?)
After having been through the copy editor process a couple dozen times
now, I know how I have to work it…
I have to work it slow.
If not, we’re talking puke, DT-like shaking, hyperventilation and hours
curled up in a fetal position.
Messy, messy business all around.
So, in my practiced pace, I took the first step today and downloaded
the corrections. I even glanced at the first page just to make sure it saved
correctly.
No puke.
No problem.
Tomorrow, I will most likely be able to take the first dive into the
edits. I’ll read the corrections all the way through before I remark or agree
with any of them. If my writing soul is not crushed by imagined personal
affronts, bitch slaps, meaty punches or blood red “F”s, I will, perhaps, be
able to then actually work on the edits. (Once I start on the actual work, I
won’t stop until I’m completely finished… either having addressed all editorial
issues or having heaved myself senseless into the garbage pail next to my
desk.)
So, please do color me industrious.
All the various shades of puke look hideous on me.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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