The Waiting

Tomorrow I will submit the second round of edits to my editor at the Wild Rose Press. Sounds exciting, right? I would have thought so too. Yet, I’ve been repeating that phrase for a week now and not actually sending them in. The edits are done (are they ever really though?) and I just need to attach them to an email. Should be easy, but I find it paralyzing.

After I submit the latest, greatest version of my manuscript, something new begins – the waiting. Sure, I’ve played the waiting game before. Send a query, wait. Send thirty pages, wait. However, this time around it’s different, it’s for real.

I can only compare this feeling to being pregnant the first time. Let’s say about three months along. The baby was going to be a real thing by that point. I’d told people, okay –everyone. I’d had a vague idea of the when and how, but not exactly. All I could do was wait. And worry. I planned, I prepared, I freaked out. I waited. My husband and I chose names, guessed at the gender, weight, eye color. We waited. I wasn’t particularly patient, but I had no choice. And it goes without saying, it was my baby - I couldn't wait to meet her!

Of course the waiting paid off then and I’m sure it will this time as well. I want to meet this baby too. I’ll send it off tomorrow, I’ll freak out a bit with a surge of adrenaline. Hopefully this will translate to nervous dusting, vacuuming and laundry as the editing process has trumped these equally fun activities lately. Then the waiting will begin. Next the speculation: how much more work does it need, what will the cover look like, when will it be released? After that passes, the second guessing will come along: is it good enough, will anyone like it, is it long enough, too long?

I’ll make an effort to do all the right things while I wait. I will count my blessings, continue to write, learn as much as I can about networking and marketing. I’ll try not to whine, pay attention to my family, and generally keep busy; but when something this exciting is so close and just a matter of time, its torture.

Tom Petty said it best - The Waiting is The Hardest Part.