This is the end

The finish line is in sight, but my legs are buckling. My knees are sagging inward. My mind’s gone all foggy. Are there typos? Maybe. Even as an editing professional, it’s difficult to guarantee I haven’t spelled anything wrong in a 250 page document I wrote myself. Especially when I continue to make changes. Is every line as perfect as it can be? Probably not. It’s hard to tweak every sentence to perfection in a 250 page document. Short story writing is so much easier to exercise control over. And even that’s hard. Still, 14 pages. I can read 14 pages and guarantee no typos. I can read 14 pages and feel pretty good about the quality of every sentence in the piece. It’s just different with a novel. I suppose there comes a point where you just have to say, this is as good as it’s going to get with just me working on it, I need outside help now. I think I’m at that point. And yet, working this long and hard on something and putting it out in the world is scary.

There’s part of me that wants to hold back, that thinks maybe if I sit on it, I can make it better. Part of the problem is that I want people to be blown away when they read it. I want to hand it over to my writing group and have them returned with comments but also impressed. I want them to have such an immersive reading experience that they might not notice if punctuation is off in spots. Then again, I want feedback. It’s just…five years. I’ve been working on this thing for five years. It should probably be a few hundred pages longer given how long I’ve been working on it, but I opted for concision. I wanted the book to be tight. When I started the edit after finishing my final draft, the book was 96,000 words and it is now 78,000 words, so I’ve trimmed 18,000 words. I’ve read it aloud and listened to playback over and over again. I’ve identified phrases that sounded awkward. I’ve noted inconsistencies in plot points that I’ve had to fix.

The recording clocks in at around seven and a half hours, and I’m tempted, since I have a day off coming up and the kids will be in day care, to sit with the electronic file on my computer screen and my iPod playing back the reading, and do one final complete immersive edit over that seven and a half hour span. Am I obsessive? When it comes to getting this right, the answer is yes. If no one wants to publish it, I can at least say I’ve done everything in my power to make it as good as possible and take my failure with nobility. A few more days, a few more days to keep my strength. You can do it. You can make it. I know you can. Just breathe.

I do have to admit, though, I’m completely exhausted now. Then again, this is a trilogy. I still have to get cracking on book two.