Are we done yet?

Galleys for my second novel for young adults, HOUSE OF DANCE, arrived a few days ago, which gave me cause to reflect (as it does for every book) on whether we're ever really done with whatever it is that we write. I've heard of writers going to press to change a book's final lines. Tennessee Williams' endless revisions are legendary. And yes, when I read from my long-since-published work, I find it awfully difficult (don't you?) not to change the phrasing, not to mix up the rhythms.

So that when galleys arrive, I am wrecked by the temptation to go back in, mess around, report on where the characters have gone in my head since I last feathered the manuscript across my office floor. I've got a new word that fits, I'll think. I've had a thought I didn't see coming. I could maybeprobablyjustincase take this character not just to the end of the street, but five feet around the corner.

But are afterthoughts always better thoughts?

I'm sitting here. I'm thinking.