I'm crooning those revised Secondhand Serenade lyrics to my novel, The Jonah Bottle. I finished the first draft on Leap Day, ten months ago. At that point I said, "Of course, the whole thing is in desperate need of a bath, shave, manicure, pedicure, floss, brush, trim and Macy’s gift card, but the bones are there!"
And now, tonight, to the sounds of millions rejoicing--music, fireworks, and loud huzzahs--I will finish the final trim.
That's not saying the book will be perfectus. Oh, no, no, no.
But it will be ready to visit all my critique partners, who, like Cinderella's stepsisters (no offense, ladies), will rip my new Macy's ensemble to pieces, thereby reducing me to tears. But ... their actions will set me to work again, and the result will surpass this draft as the fairy godmother's dress surpassed the mice's creation.
Boy, I'm feeling lyrical this morning.