105,768. That’s the current word count. I’m still editing because well… I can’t publish yet and so what the hell else am I supposed to do?

But I’m coming up on go time. The cover artist is sending me mockups and I’m spending some of my evening tonight ogling stock photos for a potential Raven model (aka hot men). This part of the book process does not suck.

I’ve contacted (and contracted with) an editor and she’s doing a read through of the novel and will send me a detailed report of any plot holes, suggestions to tighten up character development, and maybe a little bit of editing advice. I can’t afford detailed developmental editing (can you say expensive?), but this is better than nothing.

I’m getting nervous. I had a little mini-crisis last night and whined to a friend. I want this to be good. I think it is – or at least I think it can be. But that makes it more nerve-wracking. If the book were just passable… if I didn’t have a complete plot or thought that I’d done something stupid in the writing, I wouldn’t be as nervous. I’ll make a race analogy here.

When I go into a half marathon with the goal of simply finishing, I don’t get nervous. But when I go into a half marathon with the goal of getting a PR (personal record for you non-runners), I get nervous. So the fact that I think this book might actually be good makes me more nervous.

So, that’s where I’m at.


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