I’ve spent the last couple of weeks tearing my hair out over my manuscript as I prepared to send it to my editor this week, picking apart the holes and despairing over how I would ever fill them.
But last night, as I moved all the chapters out of their separate files and into one big one, I experienced a moment of awe.
I did it! I wrote a book! Sure, it’s not perfect and there are about a hundred things I’d like to change about it. But there are 70,000 words on the page, and they are mostly smart and interesting. And just as importantly, they reflect the vision I had when I began working on this project five years ago.
And in that moment at 3am that seemed pretty amazing. Hell, even now, 20 minutes after I sent it off, it seems pretty amazing.
One step closer.
Now for the months of edits and revisions.
Mr Musings picks up a magazine from the pile on our kitchen table, and reads aloud one of the headlines.
Mr Musings: That looks like something you’d be interested in.
Me: Yep. That’s why I bought it.
Mr Musings: How many articles about sex do they have?
Me: Usually about fourteen. I’ve counted.
Mr Musings: I think this article reinforces The Sex Myth. … Do you want me to leave it open for you?
Me: Nah, it’s okay. I’ll find it.
Me: [Pause] Tell me, how does it reinforce The Sex Myth?
Mr Musings: Well, it says the average 18 to 25 year old has sex 120 times a year. If I wasn’t having sex at all [Rachel’s note: Which a solid portion of people in this age group aren’t] I’d worry there was something wrong with me. And it says that having 100 orgasms a year makes you live longer. How would I feel if I hadn’t orgasmed yet?
Me: Very good. I have taught you well.