Welcoming oneself back.
It's been a long trip to... Book Hell.
As you know, I'm working on a new book—The Little BIG Things.
Our publisher read the Success Tips that had been accumulating here, and said, in effect, "You've written a book."
Sounded good to me.
Until I started editing. And the "ready to go" book was, I thought, anything but. In short, it took the whole bloody summer (no small loss at age 66, and given VT's short summers) to do the job.
About four full edits (not to mention about 50 or so new "Tips"). The last full round of "edits" (fullscale re-writes is more like it) was done during a 2-week trip to New Zealand, from which we just returned. Susan was busy with her own thing, and I had hoped to do a lot of hiking and reading.
I do not exaggerate when I say I was up at 2:30AM or 3AM or, at the latest, 4AM every damn day we were there. The last day was 3AM to 11PM—and the next morning I sent the "completed" (for now!) manuscript of 526 pages and 92,000 words off to Erik and Cathy.
No Kubota in VT.
No hiking in NZ.
Has it been fun?
Writing, for me, is not in any way, shape, or form "fun."
On Sunday it was off to the UK (4 speeches in 3 days in Glasgow, Manchester and London) via Amsterdam—where I am as I write. On the way over (Boston-Amsterdam), of course, I did some additions to the manuscript—which I just emailed to Cathy.
So I'm back.
(Never used so many eye drops as I did in NZ, and now back home.)