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It's not the weekend. It's the workend!

Sometimes I'm so clever, I fear I might injure myself.

Heather and I slept in until about 11 a.m. this morning, frolicked, and then I started work work working. I revised the robot collab I wrote with Greg, but it honestly didn't need a lot of work. I cut some deadwood, line-edited a bit, put in some foreshadowing, tried to smooth some rough edges, and sent it back to him. He's going to do a pass on it, and then we're sending it out, because it's good enough. It's damn good, actually. As Greg says, we are a genius.

Then I worked on Flytrap all afternoon. There's nothing left to do but proofread a couple more times, make corrections, put in an ad (which should be coming soon), and send it to the printer. All the little tedious things, working on the images, making sure everything lines up, etc. is done. (I say tedious, and it is, but I enjoy doing that stuff. The whole layout process is fun for me.)

I did the easy part of the (please god final, until/unless a publisher asks for more) Rangergirl revisions. Now comes the hard part, where I start at the beginning and work my way through the whole book, doing final line-edits, fleshing out one of the characters a bit more, and adding some scenes of mayhem near the end. I can't just go slap this stuff in, because I need it to mesh with the rest of the book smoothly, and that means reading the whole book again. That's the rest of my night! Unless I get too bored, in which case I'll work on finishing the "Rangergirl" story, or read the rest of this anthology I'm planning to review. Or something similarly productive, no doubt. Though Heather and I do plan to take a walk when it gets dark and cools down.

We went walking last night, and made it all the way to the lake. That's a good longish walk, with lots of steep hills. It's pretty good exercise, and we talked, and looked at pretty houses, and had fun.

Apart from work work work on writing stuff, I've been working on household chores, doing dishes, etc. And I did spend an hour on the couch watching Family Guy, because man cannot live on wordly work alone.

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