The goal line for the manuscript is in sight, but I've yet to cross it. The whole honkin' doorstop-sized draft is in the tender hands of stacked librarian these days, who is looking over it with the flinty eyes of Ilsa the Editing She-Wolf. (No, she's not quite like that, but it's a fun image, isn't it? "Mockingbird, you dummkopf! Ze comma is meant to go here!" [thwack of riding crop on page]) I'm hoping to have the entire, whistle-clean package in the mail to the publisher by the end of next week. Check back for updates.
In the meantime, I've been dealing with the fact that my house is an old one, with old-house problems. Nothing is totally square, or plumb, or standard-sized and we shall speak not of the pink tile. This has caused a small-to-middling sized project to balloon to a "Hmmm - let's put this off six months" size. At least I reached that conclusion before I started the project in any meaningful way - I must be getting smarter.
I'm also teaching my first ever "pure" online class - I've done hybrids before (some computer-based, some in-class), but this one is set up so I never actually see my students. Think of it as a Internet-abled correspondence course. (Actually, we will have one face-to-face meeting when we have our courthouse "field trip." [It's a business law class.] Wonder how we'll know each other? Maybe a rose in our lapel or something equally film noir-ish.) So far, so good. Most of my students seem eager and able and are champing at the bit to work ahead. (There will be none of that. I'm still figuring out a few things about how all of this actually fits together.)
With all of this going on, it's safe to say that I'm busy enough to stay out of pool halls.
But that finish line is so close . . .