Dead. Dead. Deaded.

Deadlines. Have we ever discussed the fact that the word itself features the word dead? It's like diet, whose root word is obviously die. Die! Die! Die!

Uh, sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes. We were going to discuss the fact that meeting some deadlines might make you question your purpose in life. Or at least your sanity. Sometimes the worst deadlines are the ones we set ourselves. Today marks the close of the summer when I tried to kill myself off with the Mother of all Deadlines.

For me, summers are sacred to writing and playing. Last summer I not only edited Becoming Beauty for publishing, but I also wrote the bulk of Twelve (except it's now retitled...uh, I'm not telling yet) and took a number of vacations. This summer the plan was to submit Twelve and jump into writing the next book (which is a retelling of Rumplestiltskin). But I never could have guessed what would happen instead.

Allergies and severe carpal tunnel syndrome curtailed most of my summer writing activities. Exactly half a chapter of Book Three has been set down, which was disappointing. But luckily, my ducks were in a row to submit Twelve to the publisher. I knew that as soon as I went into surgery I wouldn't be allowed near my laptop for weeks. (What I didn't know was that during recovery I wouldn't even have the desire to write.) So, after getting all the comments back from beta readers, I pushed through my story. Twice. The dreadful surgery week arrived and a few more personal tragedies and family dramas took my attention away from writing. Finally, I shut myself in my room, ignored my lovely parents, and started finalizing the submission process for Twelve. I think a little angel must have been watching over me because the process was more upscale the second time around. Luckily, I had most of the elements ready or nearly ready. It took a about 90 minutes to prepare everything, an extra five minutes to stare at the forbidding SUBMIT button, four seconds to take a deep breath, and a millisecond to tap that silly red button and bid farewell to my baby.

Then, the Waiting Game begins. It's different going into it the second time because I know what to expect and I have a back-up plan. Also, I know the editors, marketing directors, and cover artists and I've already spoken to a number of them about this project. And I'm VERY excited and hopeful!

Let the waiting game begin!

Meanwhile, summer is pulling to a close and I'm heading back into kindergarten teacher mode. (No worries, it just means LOTS of amazing stories, my dears!) And since we're on the subject of school, in 100 words or less, turn in an essay on the subject: My Summer Vacation. Due immediately! Drop it in the comments. Thanks for stopping by!