Wow, editing sucks.
A few weeks, I finished my second draft of The Thrilling Adventures of Clara Delaney and sent it out to a bunch of friends and family. The whole editing process was a roller coaster between getting really excited about the best thing I’ve ever written and getting really depressed at how every word that falls out of my fingers is sheer crap. I was excited when I sent out the draft (a revised first draft, really), and then about twelve hours later the horror set in.
What if they hate it? What if they read it and go, “Ugh, what happened to the English language? Why did someone barf all over these pages? I don’t want to read this. God, this is weird.” What if all the leftover typos, the bits I haven’t quite polished up yet, the accidental references to a nine-year-old as a sorority girl– what if that’s a total turn-off? Or– gasp– my book has gay people in it. What are some of my relatives going to think of that relationship?
This book is my baby. It’s not my most precious baby, but it’s my baby and I’ve put a lot of hard work into it. What if they tear it to pieces?
Well, that’s kind of why I sent it out there, right?