And indeed there will be time…
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Arthur Prufrock
I am making progress on my revisions for The English Lieutenant’s Lady.
It just doesn’t feel like it.
Seriously, I am getting close to done. Well, as close as ever I get. Close to muttering imprecations under my breath and calling it Done so I don’t have to look at it any longer. I’ve got a couple of chapters revised on my Victorian romance, which is going slower than it should be, mostly because I’m 40% done with the rough draft of The-Story-I-Shouldn’t-Be-Working-On-Yet.
Mind you, according to the schedule I’d optimistically drawn up a few months ago, I should be finished with all of these stories and just typing The End on a story that I’ve been dreaming of for–well, for longer than I want to admit.
So many stories, so little time. I wish there were such a thing as a fairy godmother, who could wave a wand and find a way for me to pay the bills and keep NotMyCat fed without having to work at a day job.