But First, Coffee

I was sitting here yesterday morning inputting the edits from AWE when I hit a mental roadblock.  A crisis of confidence, if you will.  Sort of a...

"I can't do this."  "No one will like this."  "OMG, this is so lame."  "I'm going to need at least three more edits to make this anything anyone could even kinda want to read."

So, I walked away.  Not a 'walk away dejected to never return', but a casual stroll to get out of that creepy headspace.  I ate a sweet roll.  I watched some TV.

Someone somewhere (I forget which blog) talked about the whole 'feeling like a fraud' thing the other day.  This is it.  And while I know in my heart that the little voice in my head saying all those things lies like a cheap rug, it still gets me from time to time.

But...

I can't let it stop me.  I can't let it even slow me down.  I have promises to keep.  I have to shut this unproductive brain thing down and move on.

Thank goodness I built some extra time into the publication schedule, though.  Because I do need a little time because it does slow me down.  A little.  And I've already used some of it up dragging my feet because I think my subconscious knew this was coming.

and*...

I think I hit on the crux of the problem, the seed - if you will - of my crisis.  I want this book to be perfect.  Perfect.  Every sentence laid out so the reader has perfect clarity.  Which is nigh on to impossible.

As I said before, this is a scary book - for me, as a writer.  This is why.  I don't think I've been this nervous about a book since I finished my first one and sent it off to be ground up by the query machine.

Today.  Today I am committing myself to sitting my ass here for as many hours as it takes to accomplish some actual progress.  Because I will hit my deadline. 

But first, coffee.  

*I actually wrote this post off and on throughout the day yesterday and some this morning.  The first part up to the * was written in the morning.  The next part was written around 2:30pm after several failed attempts to work on editing for more than ten minutes without succumbing to the crisis of confidence again.  Realizing this, however, did not help.  I only managed 21 pages edited yesterday.