Well, my new timetabling system seemed to work, as I managed in the end to send my book in four days ahead of my deadline, instead of the week later I was originally anticipating.  I’m sorry if this sounds unbearably smug, but it did feel good!  I had a last minute crisis of confidence when I reread it on Monday night, but it was too late to do anything about it by then, so I sent it off anyway, and as it turned out I needn’t have worried.  I have already had my editor’s comments back, and she seemed to like it (phew).  I just have to make a couple of small additions, and get the hero to produce a ring in the final scene.  These really are tweaks, as opposed to the tweaks editors sometimes ask for which involve rewriting the whole book! 

I’m hoping to get them done tomorrow, and that will be my writing commitments for the year done and dusted – what a relief!  I’ve written three books this year, plus a 30,000 word novella, and the first half of the year felt like a bit of a treadmill.   The last book has been much more enjoyable though, in spite of writing against a tight deadline.  Perhaps it was easier because it was much more light-hearted than the three earlier stories.  I read the proofs of the book I wrote in the summer recently and was taken aback at how intense it was – and that was after my editor asked me to cut back on some of the misery! (Note to self: no more books based on own emotional history)  This most recent book (title still to be agreed) was one of those rare books that pretty much write themselves, so I think I’ll stick with fun in future – it seems to work better for me!

The end of November is always a fraught time, as the half-yearly royalty cheque is due any day now, and I can’t make any decisions about next year until I know how much I’ll have to live on.  I get very nervous waiting for the post to drop through the door and wondering if this will be the morning the statement arrives.  It comes in a thick white A4 envelope, so I can tell at first glance if it’s there or not.  I get even more nervous when it does turn up, as then I have to square my shoulders, take a deep breath and open the envelope for the moment of truth.  There’s absolutely no way of predicting how much it will be,  so it’s all horribly tense.  I have to go through this twice a year, and every time I think how much easier it would be to get a proper job and have a monthly payslip. Proper jobs do cramp your style, though, so perhaps for now I’ll stick with the sick feeling I get when I see that envelope on the mat …