I just printed out a manuscript for (yet another) read-through. I don’t know why, but for some reason, this is striking me as being a very big deal.
I don’t expect this one to be a big project. After all, it’s already been revised. (Twice.) It’s not even like I haven’t sent it out before. I have. In fact, agent feedback is why it got re-revised in the first place. If anything, going through it this time should be a breeze. A few typos. A few horrifying formatting errors. And done.
It’s on the table next to my viking manuscript, which is actually a major project. A gen-yooo-wine train wreck. Where I can’t figure out what any of the characters are actually doing there.
And the one I’m writing completely from scratch, right now. I still haven’t figured out where that little asteroid hopper comes from.
Nope. The one I’ve been working on all this time is definitely the most terrifying of the three.
Maybe there’s just something about the last revision of a project that’s especially painful.
Or maybe it’s the fear that this won’t be the last revision.
Anyway, there’s something about going back.
Let me have that first chunk of 20 pages.
I have a checkbox in my bullet journal waiting for today.