OK—so you know we’re finishing another book right? Well yesterday was our deadline. We could tell, because we both had a case of deadline diarrhea. Still don’t know how it happens. It was nothing we ate. Well there’s stress and tension and pressure and no sleep, but that doesn’t count, does it? So there we were, writing and wearing a path from the office to the bathrooms—fortunately there are two of them. There were intermittent hives too—at the moment Virginia’s got a lovely one, right between the eyes.
You really thinks it’s all under control, and damn, by the sixth book we should be used to it. Then you get that rumbling in the gut and nobody should stand in your way.
But we lived through the day—in large part because our editor doesn’t need the book until Friday. So we took several deep breaths, regrouped—even took a little nap. We’re still at the machine today but some of the hysteria has passed—at least until tomorrow.