Post-Manuscript Depression
Well, it’s done.
At some ungodly hour last night, I sent out the final draft of The Painted Man to my publisher. There will still be line edits and copy edits and queries and printer proofs and Crom only knows what else before it goes to press, so there will likely be plenty of chances for me to touch the manuscript, but as far as I am concerned, it’s done. As good as I can possibly make it.
I guess.
I’m kind of a perfectionist, and it’s hard to let go of my baby, even though working on what feels like the 50th draft was by far the least pleasant pass. I agonized over every scene, every paragraph, every sentence.
Every. Fucking. Word.
Looking back at how the manuscript has changed, I can’t complain. Every change was for the better, and a book that sold all over the world as it was is now far better than it started. It’s ready to fly.
I guess.
The thing is, every time I’ve done a rewrite, I have looked back and thought the book was FAR better than it was before. Is it hubris to think this time is the charm? That it’s perfect now?
But if perfectionists were allowed free reign, what would ever be completed? We would keep ripping apart everything we’ve built, rebuilding it over and over instead of moving on to the next project and applying what we’ve learned.
And that’s what we all should strive for in our respective crafts. To keep learning, and do our next project better than the last. It’s not about finding perfection where you are, it’s about stretching your boundaries and challenging yourself with new things. And isn’t perfection overrated anyway? Once you create something perfect, where do you go from there?
The Beatles didn’t keep trying to perfect the same ablum. They experimented and tested new sounds. That is my goal as a writer, and at least as far as my next two projects are concerned, I am on target. I will apply what I have learned on The Painted Man, but also reach and try new things. I am off to an exciting start, with 25% of The Desert Spear written, and different from anything else I have ever tried.
So why am I looking back? Is it anxiety, because this will be my first published novel, and I want my debut to be spectacular? Is it doubt that I really, Really, REALLY did my very best? Is it plain fear, because every time you send your work out in the ether to be judged, there is a chance of rejection? I don’t know. In some ways, I honestly feel like there is nothing left to fix in the book. In others, I feel like I could have kept editing forever, in an endless loop of improvement and non-completion.
Sometimes, you just have to let go.
Case in point. I edited this post 10 times, and i still feel like it could be rewritten better.
>sigh<
It is an awesome accomplishment. You are living the dream! Yeah, it might never be quite right to you but once I get the book in my hands around my 20th birthday…I’ll probably squee myself.
Oh and I was wondering…when are you taking requests for appearances?
It is, like everything else in life, a question of balance. Speaking as someone who has been witness to your creative process for over a decade now, you strike that balance as well as can be hoped.