I don't know why it's always so scary coming back to my work after some time away. It freaks me out, every time. I've given myself a nice, long absence from Creep – the third draft was completed on July 5th – in order to attack this last draft with what will hopefully be fresh eyes. But after nine weeks away, I'm afraid of what I'll find.
I'm afraid it'll stink. That my wonderfully fresh eyes will see a thousand glaring errors.
(There. That was my ten seconds of self doubt. Now I'm telling it to fuck off so I can get on with it.)
I'm going to be multi-tasking for the next couple of weeks. Here's what I'm up to:
1. Final draft (proofing five chapters a day).
2. Agent research (yes, STILL – it's amazing how one can drag out a task one does not enjoy, and watching Kim Clijsters mount her comeback in the U.S. Open certainly doesn't help).
3. Query letter (which is written but far from perfect).
4. The dreaded synopsis (which as of this posting still does not exist).
I plan to work on each of these things every day. My goal is to send out my first query letter no later than October 1st, a full month behind schedule. But it's okay. It's got to be perfect. Rushing won't get me published.
I feel a little crazy. You'd have to be to do this, wouldn't you?
p.s. I have an itch to start writing the sequel to Creep. Do I scratch it or wait for it to go away?