I have finished my novel. Hooray! Feels wonderful and scary. Now I am editing it and adding the in fills, which tie it together and hopefully will be done in a couple of weeks. Thanks to those of you who are proof reading for me. It's very much appreciated. The scary part is now to come when I send it out and wait, and wait, and wait, and then get a rejection slip. God I am so dreading that. However, I am not being negative (only a bit) trying to keep positive (not doing very well) upwards and onwards to the next stage as I keep telling myself.
Had the mother in law to stay over the weekend, which was nice, she's a lovely lady and I enjoy having her here. Nevertheless, I went round the house like a demented cleaning lady in the hopes she didn't find cobwebs or anything she shouldn't. The Hoover was smoking by the end of the whizz around the house. This week I can relax and let it all go to pot again.
My hubby (now the novel is finished) is on at me to send it out. I keep telling him I can't yet, it has to be 100% ready - I think this might be me procrastinating - but I should literally die if I did send out submissions and by fluke was asked for whole thing and I wasn't in a position to follow through. I think he thinks it's going to be "loads of money" I keep telling him not to hold that dream, there is only 1 JK Rowling, and then tell him about dear Annie and how slow the whole process is - he pulls a face like he's bitten into a lemon when I explain the reality - at least this keeps him off my back.
On a lighter note, xmas is nearly here - bar humbug- I hate xmas, I hate the run up, the spending, the hassle (I think I've already said this in another post). This year my cousin will be in Australia and so it will be us 4, mother in law and my grumpy parents, all in all a jolly old time - NOT! I want to go away. Nobody else does. I said I'd be happy going on my own! They won't let me. Miserable beggars. So, I suppose I'll be cooking - again.
Have been bogged down with helping my daughter with homework these last 2 weeks, and feel that my brain is frazzled beyond repair. I hated it when I was at school and I hate it now. She gets so much it's ridiculous. My son never got anything like what she does. My heart dips each night she comes home and tells me what she's got in store for that night.
My darling Henry (the dog) has taken (for some mad reason known only to dogs) to humping my cream coloured (expensive) curtains in the morning room. Only though, when he comes back after a walk all muddy and is washed down, still damp with traces of dirt in his coat. He does it when I'm not looking, the cheeky swine. It takes me over half an hour, a bucket of warm water with detergent and a cloth to wipe the dirt off again.
As soon as I am ready to post off subs I will let you know so you can all give me shoulder to cry on.