And It’s Off!

I didn’t freak out nearly as much as usual.

I worked on it, did final edits and tweaks. I watched some YouTube, podcasts as well as some favorite songs which I sang badly at the top of my lungs. I just had to give the cat lots of love because she was just demanding all the attention ever. I read it through. I caught even  more typos (gah! bane of my existence). I poked at it, ignored it in favor of more bad singing, and then finally I had it complete. I panicked a little then. But I had the submission email already waiting. I had the synopsis already attached. All I had to do was attach the MS, after I saved it to ALL THE PLACES and then I would be done.

I attached it.

And then I hit send and ran away from my computer.

I could have thought of a dozen reason to keep reading it through. I could have dragged it out for months. I could have whined to someone for days or even weeks, about how it was awful and I wasn’t going to do it, until I was told firmly and unapologetically that I was exhausting and I needed to shut up.

But I knew deep down that it was the best I could make it. I knew that maybe I could make a few more adjustments, but in the grand scheme of things it wouldn’t make that huge of a difference. So I pulled up my big girl panties and I just sent it. Panicked afterwards, pretty hard, but it was done. It’s out of my hands. It’s in someone else’s, and they get to make the decision. And even as I hate waiting, even as it will tear me up in the next couple of month while I wait for the answer, even though I will be a nuisance to those I hold dearest…it off. It’s no longer in my control. And weirdly, there is a comfort in that.

I can’t control what happens next, but I can control my reaction to it. And I am preparing myself for either outcome. And that’s all I can do.

Well…that and start working on the next one…

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The Finishing

It’s kind of bittersweet when I finish up a story and get it ready to submit. That’s what I’m doing this week, making the final tweaks and changes and edits. Polishing it up. Writing the synopsis, which I hate, and then composing the email to send it off.

At that point I’ll have a flat out panic attack, wringing my hands and barely able to breathe until the best friend, who will be holding my hand, gives me a smack and tells me just to do it.

And that’s when I’m still worried and scared–because no one wants to face rejection right?–but I also get a weird sort of calm. Because it’s out of my hands, I’ve done what I could, and now it’s up to others to decide if it’s going to be published. I hate the waiting to hear. It’s sort of excruciating. But at the same time, I’m half removed from it because there’s nothing I can do. (That’s not to say I don’t have random panic attacks during which any number of people in my life have to say “dude, chill” though I am not a dude and I am almost never chill. Heh.)

But I’m ahead of myself, a bit. I’m not quite there yet though I’m hoping to be by the end of this upcoming weekend. I’m still tweaking and editing. And then I have to read it through, start to finish, to try and make it the very best it can be. And then I can get to all that other stuff. That’s my goal for this weekend…to get to the worrying.