One month ago I was floating on a fluffy cloud of fairy dust.
Today...I'm slogging through the dirty sludge of my mushy spongy brain.
Still feeling pretty good...but now...I'm also feeling...DUH DUH DUHHHHH...insecure.
About what you ask?
I'll tell you. I finished my book and then my first round of edits.
Some of you might be surprised at that but my book is probably shorter than most of yours, only about 50,000 words. And, I tend to edit the entire time I write so I have a head start.
Any-hoo...I sent my book to my two favorite 'editor' peeps yesterday and this is when I start freakin' out!
Will they like it?
Will they think it sucks?
Will they rip it to shreds like Wolverine? Will it come back with more red than black? Will they come back and say I forgot to add the plot?
It's so hard, the waiting.
After I emailed it I decided to go back to the notes I took from the editing class with Angela James.
So, after spending countless more hours finding and replacing words that suck, the book is basically completely different anyway and the peeps are reading the old draft.
Keep my chin up. Shoulders back. Remember to breathe.
Breathe in, breathe out.
If they don't like it...well...I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
What keeps you up at night when someone else is reading your work?
How many of you thought of the Bush song Machinehead when you read the post title?