Putting the Octopus to Bed

So I've gotten my feedback (all helpful -- yay!) and now I've got to start putting this octopus to bed. Meaning, when tackling a revision, you usually have about eight (or a billion) things you need to focus on, which means every time you manage to put a few of them to bed, the other ones get loose and shoot out all over the place.

It's a tricky thing, revision. In my experience, my work ALWAYS gets better when I do a large rewrite. Always. But in the days leading up to plunging back into a manuscript, I'm overcome by fear that I won't be able to do it. I won't be able to manage all those octopus legs, and I'll just end up with a big, fat, mess.

A lot of writing is just shutting up your fear and getting your fingers moving. Because nothing will get finished if you just sit there and worry.

Okay, enough blogging. I've got a date with an octopus.

Waiting for Feedback (and Considering Dentistry)

Being a writer is full of hurry up-and-wait. You hurry-hurry to get through a first draft (for me, the most painful part of the entire writing process). Then you hurry-hurry to read and revise it because you're so anxious to fix the millions of things that are wrong with it. Then you hurry to make it somewhat presentable so you can push it out of your own hands, by sending it out somewhere -- either to an agent, editor, or trusted critique partner(s).

Right now I'm waiting for feedback on something brand new. In the mean time, I'm looking critically at some old and half-finished projects, trying to see if there's a spark anywhere I should ignite and work on.

But mostly just waiting and wondering. Sometimes I think I should have been a dentist instead. Or any less emotional profession.