Hah.

I found three whole chapters I'd made irrelevant, which means that TBFKaB1 has gone from 145K to 70.6K. I removed more than fifty percent of the damned thing. Hot dog!

I think I'm going to open TBFKAB2 and work out what needs to be rearranged first. I've got a few ideas. Mostly, though, I need some sleep. Assuming I can scrape a suitable spot from beneath either the very snorrific Import (I can hear him on the other side of the house) or a stunningly fat and spoiled cat. I'll probably make Aldous move from the couch. The poor Import has to be up at six, and he has a hard enough time getting to sleep without me making him budge up.

Yes. Rather proud of myself. There's a lot that still needs to be done, and I'll have to go back and patch some holes, but this is eminently doable.

FOR THE WIN!

The Book Formerly Known as Book One has dipped below 90K. I've still got a lot of work ahead of me, but I'm getting there. So far, I've cut more than 55K, with as much as 25K yet to be excised. Now to pare both it and TBFKaB2 down to 120K together, and we're set.

In other news, my ear infection is back. Seems it's levafloxacin resistant. This is a very, very bad thing. Seeing a specialist on Friday to see what needs to be done. I sense a microbial culture in my future.

Getting back to work, then trying to get some more sleep. I'm pretty much homebound until my appointment. With luck, I'll be able to con some get-well yarn out of someone.

Looking Up

I just had one of those little flashes of insight that mean that the task I've got before me is eminently doable. A royal pain in the ass, but doable. I've managed to condense some early events to the point that the Former Book One should be cut to maybe a third of its original size. The Former Book Two will be more difficult, but I should be able to retain the high points without losing the flavour of things.

I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to knit on my upcoming family reunion weekend. It'll have to be from my stash, and I really should get to work on Christmas stuff, but neither of those are really major problems. (Also, if anyone's got any non-Red Heart yarn out there you'd like to get rid of? I'm more than happy to give it a good home.)

I seem to have come up with a solution to my sunscreen problems, too: Desitin. Yes, the caulk-like stuff you smear on diaper rash. It's 40% zinc oxide, which is about the widest-spectrum sunblock available. The rest is pretty much fish oil and petroleum jelly. I haven't been in the sun to test it yet, but, damn, is my skin soft.

All right, back to work. With luck, I'll actually get to sleep before 6:00 this morning.

Crap.

Dear Self,

When editing down, you should probably not end up expanding scenes from their original formats. Yes, it's now in a completely different context, but there are limits to keep in mind. No, really. You need to stop being so damn wordy. OTOH, you also need to reconsider exactly how much story can fit into three books.

So get back to work, and make this shorter, not longer.

Love,

Me

#

For those of you playing at home, this is starting to get incredibly painful. My self-worth should not be wrapped up in a word count, but for now, it is. There's loads yet to come out, and I keep telling myself that, but... Rrrr! I think it's time to re-negotiate the ending point on this thing. I've still got to pack everything into three books rather than five, though, and the next two are even longer. Fortunately, one can be re-worked and the other can have whole chapters cut free. Still going to be living hell to get this all done.

Nope, nope, the ending on book two needs to remain the end to the condensed first book. It fully cements the main character into the thick of things and takes away any easy out he might have. Also, no more living on PB&J. That's a complete aside, but a necessary one, I fear.

A few more minutes of work, and then to bed.

Brokeback Kittehs

I am increasingly convinced that Crowley, my enormous white kitty, is gay. No, seriously. Last summer, I saw him trying to mate with another stray I call Bravery. Well, this summer it turns out that Bravery is a boy. Admittedly, it might have been a dominance issue, like he's had with Aldous, who does NOT appreciate being made someone's bitch.

But today, Crowley started bringing Aldous gifts. He'll sometimes pick up his toys and bring them to me while I'm knitting. Four times, he walked straight past me with a toy in his mouth, and set it in front of Aldous's kitty jungle gym. The Import just rolls his eyes at the whole concept, but I'm the writer, damn it. Let me have my active imagination.

Editing continues apace. In fact, I haven't even had a shower yet today. (TMI FTW!) It's kind of nice to go back and insert new scenes to accommodate the change in structure. It feels like revisiting a more innocent time in the series. Not that any time in the series was innocent. Backstory is my friend.

Aaaand that squeal means that Jack "Crowley" Twist is at it again. I'm gonna go spray down the cat. Poor Aldous.

CRACKS. UP.

I am not allowed to watch Robot Chicken anymore. I was just working on a very, very foreshadowy bit involving two characters who will eventually fall in love, and the first thing that went through my head: "This is me. This is Stalin. We're married."

Just trust me. FUNNIEST. THING. EVER.

Incentive Time

Dear Self,

You really, really need to get your ass in gear. It seems that the carrot method might be best, only, you can get carrots any time you want, being vegetarian and all. Hence, I am giving you this. Eleven balls Bronzed Olive, five Henna, or however many are required. You are getting a sweater of your own design when you finish cramming two books into one. If this requires saving pennies from the sidewalk, it will happen. You have your carrot.

Now get back to work. No, you cannot take time off for the What Not To Wear marathon. Editing first. Sweater second. Anyway, you're on a fun bit. And that sort of TV rots your brain.

Love,

Me

Ah, crap.

My brilliant method of reducing word count has required the retooling of more character motivation than I can keep up with at one in the morning (or near enough). While there are distinct advantages that can be played on later, it's also a pain in the butt. Damn my brain! Like alcohol, it, too, is the answer to and source of all of life's problems.

And back to work.

The worst of my insomnia seems to have passed. In its last throes, I worked out a way to shear another 10-20K from my book, which will require a near-total rewrite (AGAIN). This is getting ridiculous. It's what needs to be done, though. Keep telling myself it'll help the story.

As the Import has the day off and is doing nothing more taxing than playing EverQuest, I'm going to see if he'll put the kettle on. This sort of work calls for rooibos in massive amounts.

OMFG

The universe is going out of its way to make up for Neil's absence. The anthology clause was in my contract, but I thought it was just a formality. OMFG.

I think this calls for Vietnamese food. Must see if my parents are willing to shell out, as I just paid the mortgage.

Linky, in case anyone wants to buy a copy of The Best of Jim Baen's Universe II. I'll even sign it for you. (EEEEEE! I can walk into my local B&N and sign copies, and they won't kick me out!!!)