looking up

I have just completed a round of revisions on what I hope will be my tenth book.

I think I may have mentioned once or twice that I adore revisions. I love having another go at a book once I've had a few weeks to forget about it. I love hearing what my editor loves about it and what she thinks I need to fix. I love opening up the word file and going at it with the highlighter. And then the hard work begins...

At the revision stage I become ridiculously particular, fussing over each and every word, each and every turn of phrase, each and every comma. It's exhausting. Hours, days even spent locked to the keyboard. My right wrist is in agony from too much use of the mouse. My neck is aching. My eyes are dry. And I feel such a sense of accomplishment and relief now that the automatic email has come back to say that my manuscript has arrived in my editor's in-box.

So what next? Always at this time I feel like I should be allowed to bask in the satisfaction. But somehow life starts to tap on my shoulder. I should really do my taxes. And my new desk and computer arrive next week so I could strip my office. And the rest of house could do with a good once over.

And then again there is the next book, niggling at the back of my head, the characters whispering sweet nothings in my ear. And the next, and the next...

Who wants to lay a bet as to what I will do first?