Here I am at another stage in bringing a manuscript along: diving into the process of going through my charming editor's comments.

This is an interesting experience. My first reaction tends to be horrified: look at those comments! She's right! That doesn't quite work! It makes no sense! Why didn't I realise that? It is because I am a fool, a fool! Reviewers will eat me. Readers will scorn me. Oh dear...

After a while I settle down and tell myself that if I can write a book I can rewrite it, remind myself that the manuscript is not, in fact, written in stone and I can change whatever the heck I like, and it's fortunate to have an intelligent editor who spots my oversights before a reviewer can get to them, and then I settle down into thinking of explanations for the stuff that needs ironing out.

I may be a bit buried for a while, but that's what I'm doing, in case anyone wonders.

Oh, and it was my birthday yesterday: I am thirty-one, which I've always thought sounds younger than thirty. My thought for the year: Do it and be scared of it once; don't do it and be scared of it forever.

On which note, back to the scary world of spotting all the mistakes in my first draft. :-)