Today is the day. The day that I actually open up the edits and critique from my editor on my contemporary romance manuscript. While she, my editor, had sent it to me earlier in the week I had made a bet with a coworker that I could wait to open the files until after work on Friday. All for a cup of coffee. What can I say Starbucks adds up after a while and when in the end we both need a good cup of coffee we will take that bet. And guess what. I won, so he's buying this round.
Why didn't I open my edits before this weekend when that's all I've been dying to do sinceI sent my manuscript to my editor? Well, I say it's so that I do throw myself into the edits, not getting any sleep, and thus distracting myself while i'm at the day job making it impossible to get any work done that I actually get paid to do. I'll let you in a on a little bit of a secrete. That excuse is exactly that. An excuse. A copout to avoid the realization of a big fear that all writers have. Especially in the beginning and I'm sure will stick around later on in our careers. It's the fear that you work. That manuscript that is a piece of yourself that you bleed over might not be fixable. That there is no way that it is good enough to even spend the time editing.
I'll let you in on another secrete. While that is a reasonable fear, it's totally irrational. No matter how much you realize that there is no reason to believe that. That if you are willing to put in the time and effort into it there is no such thing as unable to fix it. There is no, this work is so bad that you should trash the idea. Cause in the end it's all fixable. It's just different degrees of what you need to do before you are able to push that wonderful publish button.
So, here I am at my desk instead of at the coffee shop I frequent on weekends to write, with the files open but hiding behind the internet browser as I type this blog and I'm over thinking it. As much as I tell myself that i realize that the fears I have are reasonable but irrational yet with the contradiction of the excitement of finally being able to take that next step forward to getting my manuscript published, and I can't make myself look.
I'm seriously yelling at myself to do it. Yet I've done pretty much almost everything that needs to be done as procrastination first. Desk is clean, though don't look anywhere else but the desk cause that's a mess. I have my corkboard at the ready to post notes of what needs to be changed so I have easy reference while I type. I have pens, post it notes, index cards, coffee consumed and now this blog being written. And for what? To post pone the ineffable.
I know that I've chosen the right edit on this project. Everything she has to say is constructive. Not to tear my work or myself as a newbie author down, but to help reshape my work, my newbie knowledge into something that is worth people reading over and over again. She is a master at what she does. She is that missing puzzle piece that i need to help make my work complete. Ok that might not be the best metaphor but you get the point.
The point is that having a good editor is the goal. Having the notes on what you can't see is wrong but know in your gut is there. So why am I freaking myself out over this? Cause we are all human.
And cause I refuse to let my fears rule me, I'm going to dive into the edits today. I'm going to read over her notes, write them down on index cards and make a game plan into something that isn't quite as intimadating as all the notes open and your manuscript on your desktop. One thing that is just as important, or is to me at least, is to not over think it as well as not jumping in too fast and making changes that in the end don't feel right. Measure twice, cut once. That's my plan. A doable one at that.
Today is the day. That first real moment in my writing career where I realize that this is it. I am a "real" writer. I've taken that next step to not turn around running cause that dream of being published is becoming a reality. As scary as it is, I can't wait for more today is the day moments.
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