I’ve noticed two opposing impulses when I think about people reading my book. First is the thrill of knowing that people will have a chance to share in your vision. It is so humbling to think that someone, somewhere, has spent some of their money and time to read what I have to say. But at the same time, it was nerve racking to submit a final version for publication. Maybe the reason is that I am such a perfectionist that I probably could spend the rest of my life writing and re-writing Vague Pains– though I’m not sure how emotionally healthy that would be! If I’m honest with myself there is another factor: putting my book out there makes me vulnerable. What if it sucks? Perhaps worse than being merely bad, what if its boring?! As long as it remains a work in progress, I can tell myself that it will be a work of utter genius…at some point.
A few months ago, after years of rewrites, something changed. I started to feel a sense of peace, that the story was finally done. It reached a point where (after 10 years) I felt that it finally did justice to the idea I had way back at the beginning. Still…I can’t shake that same anxious anticipation that all authors must feel when they have their first release. Oh well, here goes!