I am not all that neurotic, as writers go. I mean, yes, I certainly have my quirks, but I don’t do many, many, *many* of the things that lots of my writer friends do, things which all seem to be deliberate behavior to make them crazier.
I do, however, have a Thing about my workspace. I like it to be not just tidy, but symmetrical. (“Kate,” the story says, “adored symmetry, although she wasn’t particularly orderly.” Yes. Just so. Some things don’t change.) So I’ve just spent the last hour or so rearranging the bookshelves, two of which match and one of which does not, so that the non-matchy one is against a different wall.
Sadly, I don’t think this is going to be enough, which means my poor husband is going to have to lug the non-matchy one downstairs and one of the matching ones *from* downstairs *up*stairs so I can have my symmetry. I may first employ his brute strength to move the matching pair down a few inches so the non-matchy one can be set in closer, and see if that satisfies my need for Things To Look The Same (I could move them, obviously, but I’d have to unload them all again, whereas Ted can do the job with a grunt and a step). It’d be nice to have the non-matchy one because it’s intended to hold boxes, and boxes are harder for Young Indiana to wreak havoc with than books. But, but…non-matchy! *flails*
In the meantime, mrhghl. Just finished rereading the first 60K of RAVEN CALLS for the second time. It seems to be holding together, but it doesn’t feel quite right. Usually on the second read-through I’ve gotten past the initial resistance of NO DO NOT WANT TO CHANGE NO NO NO and can see where I’ve gone wrong, but I still can’t see it. Which either means I haven’t gotten far enough *past* where it went wrong to see what I need to do to change it, or in fact it hasn’t actually gone wrong and I’m just assuming it has because by 60K a book has usually gone wrong once or twice already. Guess I have to just keep going to find out. *frazzle*