With minor adjustments (i.e., staying in and being cooked for last night rather than going out and being cooked for), the weekend went as described. So, apparently I am a reasonably reliable narrator.
There was one bump in the road, insofar as the whole “being done with a novel” thing goes. As in, faithful longtime readers here will remember that last Thursday, I finished my revisions of NIGHTCRAFT MOTHER. Jay had been reading the book as I’d worked, so was able to get small notes and markups to me by Friday. He said they were very minor; they’d take me maybe an hour.
I started working on them Friday, before Clark Kent arrived. Got through about half.
Sat down to finish them on Sunday…got almost all the way there…and found a place (in chapter 19, out of 20) where Jay had made a note along the lines of, “You really need an actual scene here, this handwavium bullshit is fooling nobody.”
I was devastated, furious, knocked over, incensed, wounded to the core…because, of course, he was right, and I knew it. I knew it at the time I wrote it, and I knew it even moreso when he said it.
But, dammit dammit dammit dammit!!!! I was done!!
Or, I was not done. Bitching and complaining the whole while, I wrote the required scene. Part on Sunday, part tonight.
It is done now. Boy is it done now. I am SO DONE with this book.
Except, of course, for the query, and the synopsis, and the querying, and….yeah.
But, for tonight, I am done. Again.