Till I turn 30.
No that’s not the point of this post. (But now you know, doncha.)
I’m nearly done with my final sweep. It’s come the same week as Jay’s been working longer hours, but God has been providing an encouraging ballance, so even with Jay gone more I haven’t been particularly slowed down.
(Though I did read a book yesterday, and that was refreshing.)
Still haven’t figured out what to do with Garm (Linnea’s sheep dog) for the end. Jay said he should die somewhere while he’s out on the quest with Kennett, which really would solve all our problems… But mostly I’m resisting because I don’t want to waste emotional capital when there’s so many more significant things going on.
And I told Jay last night that I’m getting cold feet about sending my story out to be read by half a dozen near-strangers. His loving supportive response:
Get over it.
Which, of course, was the right thing to say. The main trouble is releasing it knowing readers will find flaws. Which will prove I’ve missed some.
I don’t think I pretend to be perfect, but with writing and rewriting I’ve sort of grown to feel that illusions of (near) perfection in a final product are appropriate. And I realize I’m not going to be there, and that’s going to be disappointing to me.
And I need to get over it.
More than looking good myself, I want the story to look good, so that means handing it to people who will tell me what needs to be fixed. What I’ve missed.
Though I will admit that my deepest fear is that somebody, very honest and apologetic, will tell me to be thankful only 6 people saw it because most of the story needs to be scrapped.