I’m tired. My eyes are tired. (That’s me, yawning and rubbing my eyes to prove it.) My derrière is tired. My neck is tense. My brain is strained.
This is a novel that has been written with constant interruptions (before, during, and after my move), so I feel fractured. I hope the story isn’t fractured, too. It’s due on my editor’s desk (or rather, via email, on her computer) by Tuesday morning. Not a lot of time for that final spit and polish I like to do.
I haven’t written "The End" yet but I’m getting close. I am currently going through the manuscript and adding a couple more POVs that I realized yesterday were really needed. That’s helping my word count as well. I’m on the short side. I have friends who write long and have to cut. That has never been my problem. Never. I’m pithy.
Okay, yawning over. Back to those new POV scenes.