The Trouble with Compilations

I have finished all of the short stories for my short story book! {enter the sound of trumpets here} There may be people all the way over on the East coast that heard a strange wind sound, but felt no affects of a breeze? That was me sighing in relief. The ever-so fun part has now begun (I'm actually taking a break from it to put my thoughts out here for anyone interested in reading them): compiling the compilation!

I find the oddly interesting thing about this procedure to be "who goes where?" I finally decided on the first story. However, as I try to rearrange them to their best positions I feel sort of like a mother of multiple children and each one crying out, "but mother, I'm a better child than that one!" I understand my anthropomorphic tendencies and the fact that they have stretched well beyond my stuffed animals from my childhood (which, by the way, still make me feel guilty for leaving them stuffed into a box in the storage room downstairs - no kidding, I hear them crying on occasion). Seriously, though, these new children that I have birthed, no less demanding than the ones brought forth at a hospital, are creating quite the quandary for me.

Oh, sigh. I had better get on with it. Wish me luck!