As family, friends and Prosers can attest, over the past several months (well, years really, if you count Hidden Magic) I have worn out their trust and enthusiasm over and over again by proudly proclaiming these words:
I'm done with the rough draft, and now I just have to clean it up.
I'm done with cleaning it up. It's a finished manuscript. Now I just have to send it out to the betas. (Right here I can get stuck on an endless loop...eventually cleaning it up doesn't actually make it any cleaner or shinier. It's called stalling.)
I've fixed everything the betas thought was wrong and cleaned it up even more. Now it shines! I'm done. I'm sending it to the copy editor.
I've cleaned up everything the copy editor showed me. I'm done. I'm just going to read it one more time to make sure.
You should see my gorgeous cover. Now it feels really finished. I'm done.
Holy cats. How did I let that plot hole slide through? But I cleaned it up. I'm done. It's being formatted as we speak.
I've spent the last couple of days checking up on the formatting. Found lots of stuff and changed my author bio at least twice. But now I'm done.
I just got the ARC from the printer.
OK. Let's say that one more time, just for emphasis. I just got the ARC from the printer. I've just got to go through it one more time...
Yep. It's done. Really and truly done. I've just got to fix one more thing.
Note to self: This whole publishing thing is a LONG process. In the future, just tell people your book is "in progress" until the moment you hold it in your hands. Not the ARC. The real, finished book. Trust me on this one.