At 1:30 AM, tonight, I stopped writing (by which I mean ran out of gas rather than finished) on page 223 of my Young Adult novel. It's my first book-length project and I am blowing my own mind by going and going and going. And I think it's good which, for those of you that know me, is not something I often say about my own work. About 50 more pages to go till I write "The End." And then the slog of rewriting begins.
All I can say is that if the publisher that's putting out my children's book also agrees to publish this one, I will have acheived Nirvana and will be transcendently happy for the rest of my life, or for two weeks, whichever comes first, and I will blog to you from Heaven about the joy of bounding from cloud to cloud in the always shining sunlight of my life. (And then the teens will do something REALLY annoying and I'll have to come down and do some bitching and smiting.)
So yippee, yippee, yippeee for me and wish me luck for the rest of the way.