In Which Our Heroine Gets Her Day of Rest (From Revisions, Anyway)

25 April 2004

I am brighter-eyed and bushier-tailed today. I think this is because I know I get today off to play. Well, more or less: to play and cook and talk and read and work if I feel like it but not if I don't. I could have done with a bit more sleep, but other than that, I think it'll be good.

I told Bear yesterday that this revision stuff was addictive and I would have to stop myself with the end of Reprogramming; I told Timprov that this revision stuff was exhausting and I would be so glad to be working on new material on Sampo again when I've finished this Reprogramming draft. I think I was right both times. This point in the revision is a sort of heady experience: I can feel the book coming right, getting better, getting closer to what it's supposed to be. I can see the good bits again. That's intoxicating. But at the same time it's all maddening, and fiddly and horrible, and I'll be glad to give up the intoxication, throw it in the mail, and go on with the draft.

But when I finish the draft, I will remember the intoxicating bit and not shrink from the next set of revisions before me. Truly. Well, that's partly book-readying euphoria, too: "After all these months, I finally have something I can show to somebody who doesn't already love me! If I just tweak this, and this, and maybe this...."

So. I have hulled the strawberries, and the dough for the rosemary buns is rising. I think I'm going to chop up other relevant items (mushrooms, broccoli, and red pepper) and peel the garlic, as long as I have the time before Stella and Roo get here. It's a grey-looking day outside, but not actively raining, so we may get to the park anyway, with Uncle Mark's umbrella in hand in case of emergencies. There may yet be puppies. Only one way to find out.

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