I've spent two days editing Reframing Emma. This was the fourth or fifth time. I've lost track. The other attempts were half-hearted. I'd skim to the middle and depending on my mood either sigh in disgust or shove it away in boredom. (Not from the story itself, but the editing. The book isn't boring. I promise!) Once, I started at the back of the book to make it interesting, but my end reaction was the same.
Two days ago, I realized that I wrote this story almost a year ago. I never do that. I never hold onto stories for very long. I have so many ideas in my head or started in Scrivener that I move nimbly from one story to another. I devote time to editing, of course. I want it to be perfect for readers, but I'm not a writer who will keep a book for three years polishing it to a glossy shine by fondling, tweaking, and reworking it to within an inch of its life.
I'm done with it. I've been afraid of failure. Afraid that this step into the world will throw me flat on my face, and I'm worried about disappointing you, the readers. The result of that fear is a novella that nobody has ever seen. It's a novella, a long novella, but still, it's not even a full-size novel! I'm over it. If it flops, I have other ideas. Other stories that I need to tell.
I can only hope that those of you who have been so supportive will not be disappointed. Next week, I'll devote my time to the blurb, back cover, formatting, and publishing. I write many posts about inspiration, and how to keep motivated, but let's start talking about the end; the publishing process.
See you next week!