This morning I was soccer Mom. When we got home from his game, I futzed around a bit, answered emails etc, and then took a nap and fell fast, fast asleep. Not one of those lovely afternoon naps in which the mind is working for you, but a deep, dark completely comatose sleep. I'm still groggy from that. But I'm working on Scandal, in fits. This whole book is getting worked on in fits. I keep worrying that it's too vanilla Regency and I'm worried that it's boring.

The thing is, I have to have enough written to know in my bones what the deal is with the story and the two characters. But I'm not there yet, and so here I am in the painful writing stage. Sigh. Which I hate. I'd much rather be editing a substantially complete book. At the moment, I have just short of 50,000 words, which is not quite critical mass for me. Almost, but not quite. 70K is about where the story is essentially done, the other 20-30K comes from editing and polishing. But I'm not there. Wahhhh! I'd rather clean my desk than do this. OK, I'll stop complaining and go back to work.

My son is off with a friend tonight for a bit, so I don't have to cook dinner. It'd be cool to hit my minimum early and read or relax or something. Which isn't going to happen if I'm blogging. Rats.

Labels: editing, Scandal, writing