The hunger strike continues.
Actually I kind of "reworked" my DIE-t. I've been stuck on minus 8 pounds for a freaking month, so I cut back on my salads and added more animal flesh. BANG! 2 more pounds lost in a matter of 2 days. Every pair of pants I own is falling right off me. Obviously I'm not complaining about this.
So far, it hasn't helped. I scream every time I see "no image available." Screaming might work within the family, but doesn't seem to be very effective in this case. This doesn't stop me, though.
I revised for 10 hours over the past two days, so now I'm on page 360 of a 500 page manuscript. I know, right? 500 PAGES? Keep in mind, though, that this is the revision process, not the editing--and only the first revision. No point in slashing too much till I can print it out, read it, and figure out what to dump. Which, I'm sure, will be quite a lot. I'm concerned that some of it comes off as a bit too "angst-y". Time will tell. What's utterly cool is that, yes, I'm already thinking about novel # 3--and this gives me even more incentive to wrap up poor Shawna.