There is
this rush of adrenaline when it’s done. I don’t think that will ever go away.
You write a story and it’s a creation of yours. You’re attached to it. If you’re
not, you might be in the wrong profession. And then you let it loose. You send
it out into the world.
Will it be
good enough?
Will they
like it?
Did I polish
it enough without losing my intention?
The reality
about writing is that every draft you discard is still alive inside you. Every
character you create and then cut out is a shadow in the story, something that
was. And it’s very possible at the end for it to get muddy in your brain. It’s
why having beta readers is SO important! But despite the story itself, out in
the big world, there are other hopes.
Is this the
right market for it?
Is it a good
fit for the project?
Will my
story find a home?
And you
hope. And you dive into the next project and try to forget that you’re waiting
to hear. And you finish the next story and you send it out. And your heart
skips a beat as you hit the button. And you flush with terror and adrenaline.
And you hope.
<send>
