Borderline Braindead

I've spent the last few weeks chained to my computer while going over reader evaluations and making revisions on my latest manuscript. I've had about three weeks to do any changes, because, quite frankly, that's all I have if I want this book to have any chance of reaching the printer in time to make an appearance at the LDS Booksellers Convention in August like my publisher plans it to be.

So I've done acrobatics to make that happen, since Booksellers is, let's face it, a good place to be as an author, and I've worked hard for years and years to be where I am in the industry. I got to be at Booksellers last year, and the chance to be there again in 07 is one I won't pass up.

Booksellers is where the fall releases get debuted and spotlighted. It's where booksellers literally lineup to get your book. (Face it, this is the one and only time I'll ever have people literally waiting in an long line for me to sign a copy for them.) It's a great promotional opportunity.

As always, when I got my book accepted and the evaluator comments back, I read through them with interest. And, as always, some of the comments conflicted with one another. Others just didn't make sense. (One insisted that a character's motivation should be such and such. It WAS. So I figured I needed to clarify. I did.) Some of the comments had a lot of merit, and I decided to use them and revise to make the book stronger. Some readers had caught a few minor plot holes. I filled them. A few comments I wasn't sure on, so I picked the brains of trusted writers I knew and saw where their opinions fell. Fortunately, they all landed in the same places, so I followed their advice. Some of my readers suggested other changes, additional scenes, and so on.

The final result of the manuscript: a longer but better, stronger, book.

The final result for me: my brain is cottage cheese.

The final result for my family: they ran out of underwear, dishes, and bread.

That rarely happens. (Hush, honey. It doesn't either.)

I'm usually on top of the laundry especially. But somehow the other day in the middle of rewrites I looked up from the monitor to see that the house had pretty much fallen apart.

Alrighty then, I thought, paper plates for dinner it is. What chapter am I on?