WOO! It's almost 1:30 in the morning! I got one chapter done, then decided to read the rest of the book to try and gauge exactly how much I really have left to re-write. Except, instead of looking at the functionality, I actually got caught up in the story and ended up reading the whole last bit for the pleasure of it, not the mechanics. I completely forgot I was the author and that I had a technical job to do. I read to savor what happens, even though I KNOW what happens. It still worked on me, and I didn't remember what I was supposed to be doing until I hit "the end" and was leaning back in my chair smiling. Then I went "D'OH!"
Yeah, sounds vain, but what do we write for, anyway? If we don't enjoy our own stories, who else is going to? And I really like the ending to this book. It came out tense and surprising and frustrating and satisfying all at once. Just what it should be.
Okay, late night sleepless exuberance worn off now.