Help me I’m editing and I can’t stop!

There comes a time when enough is enough. Right? But exactly when is that? Here lately I think it might be when they pry my cold dead hands off my manuscript. Am I having separation anxiety, I wondered? Then I realized, “Duh,” you have to “separate” before you can have that condition. Or possibly, I have some form of neurotic-perfectionism . . .  is that even a thing?

Maybe it is normal to edit and rewrite, and rewrite and rewrite . . . then edit some more. Maybe. Listen, I’m all for perfecting your manuscript, polishing it and making it shine but there comes a point when you just shouldn’t change another word. Back away from the keyboard, and no one will get hurt. Although I will say if you are a “seat of the pants” writer sometimes, it is to your advantage to edit/rewrite because a better story develops.

Still, there comes that time when we have to let go and let the powers that be help us with our manuscripts. They are like doctors or midwives that step in when it’s time to give birth. Sometimes we need to push . . . at other times, it is time just to breathe through it and edit some more.

So, where are you in the process? Me, I just finished all the edits and rewrites I could possibly handle and mailed my precious “baby” off to my editor. I paused at the post office door, held the package tightly saying a little prayer and took a deep breath. Then, not wanting to make a scene I handed it to the postmaster . . .  reluctantly. His smile was evil as he ripped it from my hands. He then without mercy took a hammer like stamp and wacked it across the front and threw it into a dirty bin. I stood stunned. Again he smiled leaning toward me, “You did want to mail that package,” he said snapping me out of my stupor. I was speechless, I nodded and paid the postage and glanced one last time at the dirty bin as I walked away traumatized.

Well, there you have it. What’s done is done. I cannot change another word and I don’t have another opportunity to make my editor proud of me, to wow her, at least not this go round. Now I wait, and hope, and pray, and . . .   

Again, there comes a time when enough is enough. Right?

Right. So, keep on doing the write thing children,

 

Guyanne