I am sweating, both literally and figuratively. The temperature just passed the 40C mark and with no air-conditioning, I'm finding it tough to do any work. There's a slight breeze, but it's just pushing warm air around. The cabbage butterflies are enjoying it, though, drifting from one vegetable plant to another to lay eggs. The cicadas are a bit deafening and I think the birds have decided it's too hot to fly around; if I constantly wore a feather coat, I'd be reluctant, too.
The laptop ain't too happy neither, the fan is desperately trying to keep the inner workings cool - maybe I should shift me and the computer to sit in front of an open refrigerator, or a fan. So. It's hot; damned hot.
Figuratively, I'm trying to work through edits and wondering what the hell I'm doing. The more I read, the more I like the work, even as I recognise there's something wrong with it.
I used a voice-recognition program to read it back to me. I'm guessing in the first instance, the protagonist shouldn't be talking to herself; it's not part of her personality. In the second, some of the descriptions are subtly wrong - not sure why, yet - third, there's some chapters missing. I don't know what happened to them, but I'll have to rewrite them. Fourth, I need to be more precise about locations and descriptions thereof. Fifth, sucky grammar. 'Nuff said.
Summer, it has to be said, is the worst time for me to do this work. I'm a winter person and the heat just sucks the energy right out of me. Oh, for a southerly change blasting up the coast with bitey winds and light rain!
I think it will be up early to work, wallow during the heat of the day and work in the evenings and night - I can't sleep in the heat, so I may as well do something constructive.
I promised this book to a beta reader and I'm way past due with it, even with the flood damage. For now, I shall at least finish this chapter for revision tomorrow, even as I want to find the coolth of the sea.