I finished the *shiny* new book without a title last night. It's shorter than I expected, and needs mucho editing, but it's finally done. I say finally like it took me months to write this when in truth, it took me 33 days. Out of that 33 days, there were 18 days I didn't write at all. Since 8 would have been my normal "days off", that means I wrote the book (technically) in 23 days. Which means nothing to anyone but me. It'll probably take the same amount of time to edit it, but that's on my summer list.
Well, the next two weeks are packed with outside obligations and I have a ton of critique work to catch up on. And a stack of books to read. My writing retreat is looming (15 days) and I want to plot something new to begin on that weekend. So while I won't be adding up page counts, I will be insanely busy.
The book I start on the retreat will be finished by the time school is out. Then, the summer will be spent taxi'ing kids to various activities, editing and trying to have at least some semblance of a summer vacation. If this summer is anything like last year, that'll be a miracle.
That's all for now...