I've been playing hooky from the blog but not from writing. Monday, I worked on my submission to Kensington and by Wednesday I cried, "UNCLE!" Like everyone, I could revise that book (clichés alert) until the cows came home or in this case, when there are snow balls in hell but never have it perfect. Nothing I write is perfect. Heck! I'm not perfect. So I said enough is enough and emailed it to the editor. It had been fully critiqued by two people and partially by two others. So anything wrong is going to be wrong and all I can do is pray now.
Now I'm working on the other book. Mainly revising the synopsis. Though the editor asked for the full, she also asked for the synopsis. I figure they'll check it before sending it to a reader. Then again, what do I know? Lately I don't feel very bright. I'm tired. Working over at my day job and then coming home to write is getting to me, but I'm determined to hang in there. I want to mail the this submission Saturday.
Nothing ventured. Nothing gained. Oops, forgot to warn you with another cliché alert.