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Tired, as if you needed to ask...

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How long DOES it take to revise 51 novel pages?

How long? About a whole frickin' day, that's how long.

Man, it's crazy how long it's taking me to revise the Blackbeard novel. Part of the problem is that I have to change the point of view from an alternating one to just one point of view (and you wouldn't believe how many niggling details that entails, and I know you really don't care to know -- point of view is really only of interest to writers, I'm convinced!).

That, and adding all the gooey "romantical" elements is taking up a good chunk of time. But I'm digging it -- I usually don't get this deep into the emotions of my chracters, so this is a good thing. Anyhoo, I started this morning around 9 a.m., worked 'til one, took a fun laundry-folding break (yeehaw) and did two more hours of work before my brains started trickling out my ears.

By that point the lovely Elizabeth came back home (she wisely decided to stay away from me and my Surly Revising Writer mannerisms) and we planted some stuff in our yard (some sort of lily, I think -- I'm just the hired help and the muscle when it comes to gardening), so I did get SOME sun -- the weather here was gorgeous today.

Then I just finished up another tricky chapter, putting me right at halfway through. It's actually been a lot of fun, and I'm at the really cool part of the novel now, as my two protags are tromping around the island looking for clues to help out the ghosts haunting them.

I've been printing out the chapters as I finish revising them, and it's been sweet seing the pages pile up. Now I must soak my head. Later!

Now Playing:
"The Thistle and Shamrock," Fiona Ritchie

Now Reading:
Carter Beats the Devil

Today's Quote:
"You're right. I know you're right. But damn, Mitch, it just feels wrong to me. I'm supposed to be a scientist, and I'm actually considering talking to ghosts."

"Stranger things have happened," Mitch said. "And may happen in the future. There's no promises, you know? You just have to have a little faith."

Ella gazed at Mitch, with his once-sleepy eyes focused on her, a determined look on his face. She was starting to really like this version of Mitch the Divemaster, so different from the Mitch she'd first met just a few days earlier.

"Okay," she said at last. "When do we get started?"

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