The third proof of the book is complete. It’s been read and re-read and proof-read and then edited and re-edited, and well.. you get the picture. The Cover looks great. The interior is great. It’s professionally formatted and edited. It’s ready to go. Only problem is I can’t hit the button. Once I do, it goes out to the reviewers and out to the world and that terrifies me. What if I didn’t capitalize New Jersey? Or worse yet, what if I spelled my name wrong.
The simple fact is I’m drowning in self-doubt. All artists do at some point, but this is the first time that I’ve actually put something of mine out into the word in a big way. Ok, sure there are those skits I posted on YouTube, but they were just that. Skits. These stories are a big deal to me. And once they go out, they can’t be brought back.
Now I know how my mother felt the first time that she let me walk to school alone.
Ok. That was a terrible analogy. I take it back. But Happy Valentines Day, Mom.
It’s more like the tension that you feel when the train of cars is climbing the first hill on the Coney Island Cyclone. Terrifying, but exciting.
I’m going to peruse the proof one more time, but it really doesn’t matter, since no matter what, I’m not changing it. Unless, I DID misspell my name.
Oh God. This is torture.
See you on Split Rock Road