The good news is that this revision is going remarkably well. There's a lot of work to be done, but I'm feeling competent and calm about all of it--everything that needs doing is well within my capabilities. That's rather a nice sensation, and not one I'm overly familiar with. I hope it doesn't mean I'm slacking off and failing to push myself to excel, but rather that I've had a skill jump between the end of this novel and now.
Anyway, for the time being I'll take it. I'm on page 242, and I am confident that I can have the book done by the end of the week, thereby averting my editor's wrath and Saving The Ranch.
Of course, since I am obliged to be rewriting Chill exclusively currently, The Steles of the Sky is flirting with me something fierce, waving promising worldbuilding details under my nose and so on. I hope I find a place to put the thing about the museum beetles. Current quandary, figuring out whether the language of science in this world should be PersiUn or Chinotese, since there are no Latinot languages in this continuum.
Oh, the quandaries that make up my life.