set printers to draft, Mr. Data

[lagilman]

Yep. That sound you (well, I) hear is none other than the lovely noise of a printer coughing up the rough draft.


Of course, for me, 'rough' really does mean 'rough.' Missing the last chapter, and way short of the final word count. Lots of hacking and pruning and drastic rewriting yet to be done before it goes over to Madame Editor.


But all the outline's been used up, or otherwise repurposed. We're in the paper-pen-highligher-swearing stage, now. Not quite ready to fly the flag of editorial piracy just yet, but....






(the icon is not quite legible, alas -- the text says "deadline, meet death." And yes, I'm the shorter one)

Comments

[lagilman]

Patience, grasshopper.


Beside, you wouldn't want to read this, now. It would be like going skiing on an inch of snow -- possible in theory, but not as much fun as you're expecting.

Re: Oh Yeah?

[lagilman]

oh dear.


well, here's a little something to tide you over...



Wren Valere had spent hours, more than once, waiting in a cramped, close situation, anticipating the perfect moment to move on a job. She knew all about patience. About focus. About dedication.

She also knew, now, why she never, ever allowed anyone except her partner of eleven years to accompany her on any of her Retrievals. Especially the ones requiring patience. And why she would never, ever allow a certain demon to go anywhere with her, ever. Unless she needed to annoy a mark into madness, that was.

“What does this do?”

“Opens locks.”

The room’s other occupant put the tool back down on the small table next to him and picked up another. “And this?”

“Opens a different kind of lock.”

“And this one?”

“Gets the gunk out from between my teeth. Damn it, P.B., will you please leave my kit alone? Those extremely delicate tools you’re paw-handling cost me a fortune, and half of them are custom-made.”

“Sheesh. Someone’s snappy.” The short, white-furred demon settled on the padded bench under the room’s single window and stared at her with his dried blood-red eyes. “How long have you been working on this case?”

“Five years.” She refused to look up, hoping against hope he would finally take the hint and go into another room.

P.B. snorted, a wet, vaguely disgusting noise. “That’s dedication. You get paid for any of that time?”

[karenmiller.livejournal.com]

Wootie toot toot! One of the nicest feelings in the world!!!

[alfreda89.livejournal.com]

Let's hear it for productive!

You could always send me e-files of Wren shorts (I still have a contract out on whoever intercepted my book and stories...) Then I won't be pestering you for the new book.

And by the way -- Booklist and ALS for GRAIL #1 -- Very nice, woman. Those are reviews to take to bed, much less the bank.