I finished and turned in book 2.

It was at one point short, then longer, then edited back down, then it disappeared completely when my computer ate it and was found in a back-up email (with some of the changes missing), then was edited some more, then was back to a really great length, then I had to write the finale and the damned thing grew and grew, and now it is edited some and turned in because if I keep it here one more week, my head will explode.

All the while writing it, I had a personal goal of doing something bigger, better — stretching my skills as a story-teller, finding more depth without losing the funny. I have no idea if I actually reached any of that goal yet; I’m tired of it and can’t focus on any part of it critically anymore. A month or so from now (or whenever I get my agent’s and editor’s notes back), I’ll have a better idea of what works and what didn’t. I’ve already thought of a dozen things I want to tweak (and I’ve made notes so I won’t forget again). But I do feel like the challenge I gave myself paid off–I think I vastly improved as a writer. That doesn’t mean there isn’t a metric buttload of stuff to do on it, but that will always be the case for me–I’m a much better re-writer than a writer.

Overall, I am just thrilled it’s not in my hands for a while. My brain is mush.

(Perversely, my brain also wants to continue the story with the characters and since there is going to be a book 3, and since I have a synopsis, my thoughts are already veering into the next story. Must. Stop. Now. I am just too tired.)

Also, apparently all of the writing I’ve been doing has atrophied some of my brain. I had to run a couple of errands today and my brain was still in foggy fiction-land, where I control the whole world, including the action scenes, and can blow something up and then go back and think, nah, let that one stay, and magically, it’s back together, and let me tell you, this does not work in the real world. Like when you’re driving and there are other cars on the road? Yeah, not a good time to forget that you’re not the omnipotent being who moves things around at will. Luckily for the general public, I realized my brain was too fried to continue my errands and I just went home and decided I’d try again after I’ve rested some. No accidents, but only because other people had a clue.

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