I Don't Have a Dog, So That Must Be Panic Nipping at My Heels

Okay. I am sitting here half asleep and out of glucose and my brain suddenly farts something about a Columbus Day holiday which I assume means Monday, October 17th -- the last day I have to get this revision in the mail. So I freak. Then I google holidays and find out it is tomorrow. I am too old for this...

Anyway, I spent today's writing hours revising and rewriting my synopsis, a 10-page limited mini-story about the book. Tried to take the preliminary judges' comments with a few grains of salt and my own observations about what does and does not work in the narrative and characterization . Hopefully, it is now stronger and tighter and will make revising the manuscript itself much easier.

After I finished it, I re-read the whole thing and e-mailed it to a friend for a read-through. We both cried. She re-read it later and cried even more.

Hell, it's my story. I know what happens. I've known for over a year. I've rewritten it a gazillion times. For goodness sakes, I made it all up.

But I still cried.

Is that cool, or what?