It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

CREEP is currently with my agent.  Last Saturday I completed a two-month long first round of revisions, and while a big fat "HELL YEAH!" is certainly in order, I can't get too happy because there could very well be ten billion more rounds of revisions in my future.

Which is okay.  Really.  I want the book to sell, and it's ready when it's ready.  Not a moment sooner.

So now I find myself In Between.  And the In Between periods of my life as a writer are a love-hate thing.   (Then again, everything about writing, for me, is a love-hate thing.)

The In Between means I'm between drafts, or between projects, which is sweet because I can take a break.  A break I know I earned, and a break I really do need in order to recharge my batteries.  But the In Between can also be a time filled with anxiety, because I tend to define myself through my work.  And if I'm not working, then who the hell am I?

If I'm not working, then I'm just a chick who has time to sit around and watch taped shows on my DVR and flip through Pottery Barn catalogs, wondering if I should change the color of my living room walls.

If I'm not working, then I'm thinking about not working, and mentally berating myself for not working, which doesn't feel so good.

If I'm not working, then it's like I'm unemployed, and anyone who's ever been unemployed knows exactly how that feels:  NOT GOOD.

Right now I'm In Between.  I have a brand new Pottery Barn catalog which came in the mail yesterday that I'm saving for tomorrow.  I plan to flip through it while I watch back-to-back episodes of The Young and the Restless and Oprah.  I may or may not buy new lamps this weekend.  And the current color of my living rooms walls is being seriously reconsidered.

But Monday, I'm back to work.  Thank God.