Today I settled in to work on son #2's laptop, only to find that with two people transferring files around, I ended up with an older version of my ms in front of me--one that didn't have the work I did yesterday. So I skipped to a different part and worked on that, then later got both versions (I think) back on my desktop, and now must sort everything out so that I have one version containing all the work I've done lately.

While working today, I was thinking maybe this ms is too obvious and simple, and therefore not enough to make a book. But I remember thinking the same thing about Repossessed, and maybe other books too, although I don't recall right now. And now that I think about it, it makes sense that I'm so used to being confused and overwhelmed by a ms--after all, I spend the vast majority of my first-draft time feeling that way--that when I'm suddenly not anymore, the story seems alarmingly straightforward.

It's very strange, though, knowing what needs to be done. It makes me uneasy. I guess if something's wrong, I'll figure it out eventually. Nothing to do but press forward.