That should either show you or take you to the picture of Alastair and Luisa's Sim wedding. Now I can turn my Sim energies to revamping the trailer home (not theirs, another family's) into a Martha Stewart worthy showplace. Ahh, not jail. Bad example. From trailer trash with a stove in the middle of the yard and three unhousebroken dogs (actually now four, and two of them are housebroken, the other two almost there) to a Better Homes and Gardens type deal. Hey, it keeps me off the streets.

As does writing. I want, no, need to get the final version of My Outcast Heart off to Awe-Struck. I know I could probably send it right now and it would be fine, but things like the two instances where the character Gray Wolf was listed as "Gary Wolf" and the sage advice of a family friend who is a writer to always always check for myself so there are no surprises, pull at me, and yank me through every single page. I want to know that everything is right and I am giving them the very best book I can.

Of course doing this while reading two of my all time favourite historical romances ever points out all the things I would do book-surgery on in MOH if I could...and really, I could if I wanted, but this is the book they asked for, so this is the book they'll be getting. Live and learn and write another book another day.

Like today. I dug my partial and outline for The Spirit House out of the mothballs so I can run it by a couple of friends who completely jibe with me on related matters. We'll see how that goes. Also have exceeded the editing goal for the day, and it's now the time I usually sit down and start work, so yeah, there is a fire under me.

So many partials that I want to finish, along with the current WIP, Orphans in the Storm, that I could freak myself out if I wanted to, but I'd rather use the energy and the talent God gave me to keep going on with one step at a time and shut off the worry switch. I've had it on long enough.