A couple days ago I finished my part of the revision on Six For Gold. Facing your mistakes is never pleasant. By now I've worked my way out of the I-will-never-write-another-word-again (including blogs) stage and into the I-will-never-write-another-novel(or half a novel)-again stage.

The books have been getting tougher to write. I'm more aware (maybe too aware) of technical issues I never realized existed. None of the new stuff seems to come automatically, yet.

Outside, the wind sounds like a subway under the sidewalk. And we're nowhere near a sidewalk let alone a city. At least in the dark, without streetlights, I can't see the snow blowing. The space heater is on high and the cat is lying smack in front, sucking up the warmth as if it were baby's breath. It feels more like January than March.

I hate midwinter. The gorgeous days of autumn are a fading memory, the warm days of spring too far away to imagine. Revision stage must be the midwinter of writing a book. You can barely recall the initial inspiration and publication is too far off to look forward to.

I did manage a blog entry, however.