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Honestly, the end result is always the same, I might as well please myself and just leave it unmarked in context.

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Mark neologisms with footnotes: people email to complain.
Put glossary at end of book: people email to complain.
Just leave them unmarked in context because of complaints: people email to complain.

I have dogs to walk, a run to get in, a revision to recover from, and a book about Giordano Bruno to curl up on the couch with today.

Life is good.

I took yesterday off and didn't even glance at the news. Now I'm thinking I should have continued the trend for at least a few more days.

Some books have more difficult revision processes than others. This one... was on the "more" side of the spectrum. Acid-test conditions for all concerned.

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Of course there'll be a million things I think about re-tweaking and redoing, but that doesn't stop even when a book's in print, so...

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And the latest revision of POISON PRINCE, tweaked and formatted, has been sent to the editor.

...6K added in revision today. The next draft of THE POISON PRINCE is done.

I don't knwo how to feel. Feeling will have to wait until I've slept.

Goodnight.

I migth be able to knock off this revision in the next four hours.

I'm going back in.

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Also because when your daughter comes home and says "I'm baking cupcakes because it's been A Day," you do not protest. You simply hope you have enough milk to consume with them.

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Dinner: cupcakes and a cheese roll, because I'm a fully functioning adult or at least impersonating one.

POISON PRINCE just broke 140k in revision.

Back aches, eyes water, time for a stretch, some tea, and back to the battle.

Have finally reached the last third of revisions for THE POISON PRINCE. Tentatively feel the book might not be awful.

As usual, I was unprepared for the bone-deep relief of this discovery.

Both dogs, having been walked and condescended to eat their damn breakfasts, are now achieving liquid form upon the floor and snoring wholeheartedly.

Lucky bastards.

He, unperturbed, ate half of her scorned meal, then they switched places.

Dogs, man. I don’t even know.

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Vaguely related: Miss B finally condescended to brekkie as well, but not her own, oh no. Instead, she went for the remains of Boxnoggin’s.

I'm always ravenous while revising. I tell myself it's my big ol' brain needing glucose, but I'm pretty sure it's just eating my feelings.

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