I finished the rewrite of Postcards From Across the Pond yesterday. I didn't mean to. I was happily editing along, comfortable with my routine of getting on the bus, pulling out the AlphaSmart Dana and trying to make one or two of my humorous out-of-my-element articles funny, or at least more humorous. There was a vague notion that, once this process finished it would be back to searching for agents and writing queries but I didn't really believe it would happen.
Then the words 'The End' came in sight. They didn't need editing, so I turned off the Dana and thought, "Now What?"
I guess it's time to start gathering agent addresses again. This task was supposed to be done in parallel with the editing but, as I said, I really didn't expect to finish, at least not so soon. And what about the bus? What do I do there? Maybe I can actually work on the novel. I tried that on the bus and it didn't work out very well but perhaps after all that practice with Postcards . . . it will work out.
But for now, a polish for Postcards . . . and it's back into the wild.