And, lo, after much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I give you a (very dark) picture of this:
It is a (very dark) picture of the most recent, completed, received-by-New-York-editor version of my book (!) Hillbilly Gothic. While I am sure that (and, in fact, hope that) there will be revisions, the manuscript is currently in the stage where if I got hit by a bus, it will still be a book. There is a beginning and a middle and an end. There is an arc. Things happen. It all fits together, more or less. Again -- it ain't perfect, not by a long shot, but it is a story that seems to work. To which I say, woot!
For those wonks who like this sort of thing: the numbers--
Page count: 194
Word count: 70,000ish
Height, in inches: 1
Height, in centimeters: 24
Time to write: well, that depends on how you count. In some sense, 34 years. From first glimmers of an idea to yesterday, about 2.5 years. Actual ass-in-chair hours, probably two months round the clock, if you don't allow time to sleep and eat and maintain other life functions.
Time until it is published: About a year, but I expect to be doing rewrites much, much sooner than that.
While I would like to say that I celebrated the official emailing of the book (bless the computer age) by drinking champagne and having my feet rubbed, I actually spent it making bread, coddling a crabby child and, eventually, having some ice cream. The whole completion thing is sadly anticlimactic. I'm wavering between wondering what the heck I have wrought and wondering how much work it will need before next summer. I am also wavering between thinking it's genius and it's pure crap. I am also wondering if any copies will sell, once there are copies. But that is really cart before the horse talk.
Yesterday did, however, mark the day when I got large amounts of my brain back, which will make the end of the semester much easier to deal with. It is also the day when I realized that the house is filthy and we have no food. I need a wife.
Regular blogging should now resume. Hold your applause.