OK, for better or worse, the edits for ADC are done and on their way to NY. It is now a completely and utterly different book. I went to bed at 1:00am last night and got up at 5:00am, and I just now came back from Fed Ex. Is the book any good? I have no idea. Chris Keeslar has probably saved my you-know-what from total shame and humiliation. The whole first week I was revising, I was on painkillers and it's kind of scary, but that week is a vicodin-blur, although I admit I was holding off on the pills every night until after I was done writing so that was, just, not really fun at all, but I don't see how I could have done an even marginally OK job fixing my big fat mess with my brain mushier than usual. When 4 vicodins didn't do the job, I think that means it hurts. I can just see it now:


Anyway, then I started worrying I was turning into a dope-fiend so I flushed all the vicodin down the toilet and then the next night I was really sorry. But, that's exactly what a dope-fiend would think, right? And then the pain got worse. . . And I had to go back to the doctor.

And I've been a bad mommy for two weeks. Plus, my room looks like a paper bomb exploded in it.