The last edit of this manuscript is dragging. It’s not the edits, not really, it’s me. I’m procrastinating. I’m at the finish line and I’m hesitating.
I need to be held accountable, only I’m really clever with the excuses. I believe my own lies. So, here’s the truth of it…
Tentatively titled, CLAN, I’m sitting at around 103,000-ish words for this novel. After having the wise and extraordinary editor, Jeff Seymour, give it a read and provide his magical advice, I’m on my last edit before submission.
- Finish these goddamned edits.
- Write a query letter.
- Stop being so fucking lazy and get to those edits.
- Query agents.
- Those scene updates won’t write themselves!
- Cross fingers.
If you’re reading this, message me and ask me where I am. Don’t believe me when I tell you I’m almost done. Push me, berate me, tell me I should just give up. Actually, don’t do that. That reverse psychology bullshit won’t work on me and I’ll end up using you as my new excuse. Still… if you have a second, give me a push. A well-meaning ‘atta girl goes a long way with inspiration to keep gnawing away at it.