Six days until deadline.

Amazingly, I think I’m going to make it — maybe even early — which is shocking as hell, even to manic, workaholic me, because it’ll mean that in less than two months, my editor and I edited and completed around 600 single-sided pages of really in-depth material, all while doing a million other things on the book and our other projects.

(And in case I haven’t said it in a few days? I LOVE her. Love her, love her, love her. I got so lucky.)

Yesterday, I had my game on, big time, from 7 AM until just after midnight, with only a short break. (We needed to go grocery shopping and prepare for my being a shut-in for the next week, since my ass leaving my office chair is highly unlikely. Times like this are the great rarities where it’s unlikely I’ll be eating anything but frozen Amy’s veggie bowls.)

As of yesterday, I was through all but the last two chaps, including updating all of the BC information since the last time this ms. was finished. In a better world, one where women really mattered, that would NOT have been such an easy job: my queendom to have a myriad of new, safe methods to add every time we revise this puppy. But alas.

Today, I finish up yesterday’s work, move the rape and abuse information that was part of one bigger chapter to its own chap (I’m worried about it getting lost, and with the rates of young adult abusive relationships rising as it has been, and rape being as prevalent as ever, I need to assure it’s very visible), move quickly through the STI appendix and then the reproductive options/pregnancy/parenting chap to finish their edits, then start some work on either the summary, acknowledgments and/or the resource list.

Per usual, a lot of really cheesy music from my rollerrink days is buoying me along. Pat Benatar, 10CC, Journey, ELO, Wings and Abba are — whether they know it or not — avid supporters of young adult sex education. I know, because they sing those power ballads JUST for me.

I’m starting to get excited. This has been such a long, long journey, with so many long, hopeless periods, thinking I’d either never find a publisher or a good editor who’d really let me say all that needs be said as plainly and balls-out as I do, who’d get what I do and why it’s so vital, and who’d be of size enough to really get this out there. For various reasons, when my last publishing arrangement — after so much work and so much trouble in making things work between them and me — totally blew up in my face last summer, I didn’t speak to how completely shattered I was. It was such a hard blow, one I really wasn’t prepared for, and I earnestly felt that this was dead in the water. I think I didn’t let myself get 100% excited about this until very recently out of nothing but self-protection: it’s so great to be able to let myself feel that now.

What I’m doing now is not all that different from what I do every day. I’ve seen it on the page before in its various incarnations. But for some reason, only now that I’m nearly at the finish line am I seeing some of it on the page and going, “Holy CRAP, this is really, truly revolutionary stuff they’re letting me say.”

Which is fuckin’ awesome when it’s revolution you aspire to.

(One other favor? I now have pretty much all the consult I need, but I’d really, really like at least one feminist woman with a more second-wave sensibility to look over some parts of the book. My own feminism straddles the waves in — I think — a pretty balanced fashion, but I still always like more eyes, and per looking at aspects of the book from a feminist standpoint, I’ve got third-wavers a’plenty, but I’d really, really like someone more old school to peek at it. I’ve sent out feelers elsewhere per this, but to no avail. Anyone up for it?)

filed under Heather Corinna | bookish bits | feminism | s.e.x.
posted on Friday, November 10th, 2006 at 9:44 am

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