shaken & stirred

welcome to my martini glass


big stack of paper

Or could it be magic? I don't know. I finished the tidying of the manuscript (for now) and put in page breaks before chapters and printed the whole thing out and then Christopher and I stopped at Kinko's and got the 316 page thing comb-bound so it would be easier for him to read. I almost got sucked in by it a minute ago. It's infinitely pick-up and readable, with the nice comb-binding, instead of a huge stack of paper you hope you don't drop and get out of order. And it cost less than 5 bucks. Can't beat that with a stick. (The key here is to take in the 316 pages and just pay for the binding and cover. Otherwise, it would have been around 30 dollars, which isn't nearly as awesome because it isn't nearly as cheap.)

Anyway, one generous soul has already read a chunk of the beginning and now an erstwhile soul will read the whole thing. then said generous soul will get the whole thing, along with a couple of other generous souls, who will then tell me how to make it the best it can be. Which is what I'm aiming for.

At this point though I'm just amazed that (I think) all the continuity errors are fixed, knots tied up, set-ups paid off, and, not least, it has a beginning, middle and an end. And I like reading it. That's a big thing, because I wanted to write a book I'd like to read, and especially a book I would have liked to read when I was a tween/teen. I will be happy if I've achieved that in the end. And you know, publish the thing.

I don't like talking about this stuff on the journal. It feels too... self-aggrandizing. So, I will stop.

And go get a self-aggrandizing 30 minute back rub from a professional who can save my wrenched neck from consulting manuscript at odd angle, then typing in words, repeat a hundred times.

Those of you I owe email to will be getting it tomorrow, as I do all the fun preparing for the trip to San Franscisco. Interestly, karmically, enough, just had a script request for my San Francisco script. Strange tidings are afoot. Yet another big stack of words (though not nearly so big) must be printed.

Ahnuld can not be understood. End this phenomenon. Where is the horse and the rider? You know, the one with the grudge and the gun?


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