The edited file of Book #1 sits in an email as an attachment. The email came in early morning. My first reaction was a gut-punch thrill (It's here. I'm finally to the real-live THE END phase. OMG!) then panic pounded in my chest like a jackhammer. An hour later, I still can't bring myself to open the file...
The Editor's note mentions minor grammatical edits and a few confusing sentences that need to be clarified.
But what's REALLY in that file? I wonder...
This time of year, you never know what goblins might lurk around the next corner. Now, I know the Editor is an awesome editor, professional and forthright, but still.
What if there are pages and pages of markups? What if every page has so many markups they look like spiderwebs? What if I don't "get" now to fix the edits? What if I'm not up to the task? When I look at the webbed pages, will I spaz out? Go into full-blown panic attack mode. Not being able to breathe, unable to explain that I've been attacked by the goblins in an electronic file. If I open it, and even after the Editor's most awesome effort, the words don't pop?
Okay, apparently self-doubt is the goblin in question. From what I understand, Doubt is the most insidious of the gremlins out to undermine writerly joy.
Maybe I'll download the file first. Not open it. When I do, I'll peek, one eye shut, like out from under the covers when things go bump in the night. Or when there's a knock on the door (email in the box), and my hand hovers over the doorknob (finger over the mouse button). I sip air, then forget to breathe. My hand trembles. I turn the knob (click open).
I suck in mouthful of air. Panic grips my chest.
It's time...
Trick or Treat?
The Editor's note mentions minor grammatical edits and a few confusing sentences that need to be clarified.
But what's REALLY in that file? I wonder...
This time of year, you never know what goblins might lurk around the next corner. Now, I know the Editor is an awesome editor, professional and forthright, but still.
What if there are pages and pages of markups? What if every page has so many markups they look like spiderwebs? What if I don't "get" now to fix the edits? What if I'm not up to the task? When I look at the webbed pages, will I spaz out? Go into full-blown panic attack mode. Not being able to breathe, unable to explain that I've been attacked by the goblins in an electronic file. If I open it, and even after the Editor's most awesome effort, the words don't pop?
Okay, apparently self-doubt is the goblin in question. From what I understand, Doubt is the most insidious of the gremlins out to undermine writerly joy.
Maybe I'll download the file first. Not open it. When I do, I'll peek, one eye shut, like out from under the covers when things go bump in the night. Or when there's a knock on the door (email in the box), and my hand hovers over the doorknob (finger over the mouse button). I sip air, then forget to breathe. My hand trembles. I turn the knob (click open).
I suck in mouthful of air. Panic grips my chest.
It's time...
Trick or Treat?