Revisions for WALKING DEAD are complete. I think I rewrote almost the entire last chapter (I said, hopefully intriguing the early readers who helped with title ideas).
*looks at the rest of the thinks to do* I believe I said I was slowing down. I’m still trying to figure out when that kicks in. Possibly with the utter failure of NaNoWriMo. (And yet I’ll be disappointed if I don’t break 400K this year, having blown past 300K in *August*. I’m an inconsistent beast, I am.)
I am vaguely frustrated by the fact that for some reason the Irish don’t have the fourth Thursday (and the following Friday) of November off, which makes it more difficult to invite people over for Thanksgiving dinner. I feel this is an oversight that should be corrected.
*splutters at the tv* I saw some talk show where they had a chef of some kind making pastries, and they said, “As an recession-beating measure, buy one of these!” and held up a rubber spatula. It helps you get every last bit of stuff out of the bowl! Well, no *shit*, Sherlock, but as a *recession-beating measure*? How goddamned much food stuff would you have to be leaving in the bottom of a bowl to make it *matter*? I mean, good *Lord*! I was offended. I still am. *splutters*
miles to Isengard: 478.2
ytd wordcount: 347,500