I can't sleep and I'm forgetting to eat again. I'm not dancing. I'm miserable. Welcome to the final stages of writing a book.
I'm in the thick of editing book two and I'm like a freaked-out maniac. I'm just obsessed. I don't know if I'm in the middle of a (mild now that I'm on meds) manic swing or if it's just anxiousness to finish the damn book. I think it's the latter, but I don't know.
I'm coming to bed later and later. Velvetackbar has put his foot down; I am coming to bed at 9 when he does. "It'll be easier once I've finished this book," says me. "Baby, there will always be another book," says him. He's right, you know...
Still waiting for cover concept art from Bea Gonzalez. When I get it, you'll see it. I'll also be starting a Kickstarter at that point for the final leg of fundraising.
Anyway, I'm on chapter 11 of 18-plus-epilogue. I'm cruising right along. Netta still needs to look at the edited version. I have to go back with her notes (which so far have been minor).
And then you guys get it.