The notification slid down over the reddit post I was reading; its announcement sent a jolt through my system. The only words I saw, since it was truncated, was “I’m going to do an unusual process and color code…”
My heart dropped and then thumped painfully back to life. More notifications came up. I put the phone facedown and decided not to look at it anymore.
I sat there, trying desperately hard not to think about the fact that my development editor was currently reviewing my baby, my first chapter, a piece of my soul and had already said she was using an unusual practice to do so. Was it so bad? Was it such a train wreck that she had to resort to unused methods to cobble together the few bits that were okay?
Oh god. I suck. I suck at writing. And if I suck at writing, what about editing? Do I suck at that too? Am I doing my writers a disservice? Should I send a PM to my manager and ask him if I suck?
My heart had now reached anxiety levels of thumping; I was almost at hyperventilation stage and had firmly taken that one incomplete comment and followed it down the “I’m an imposter” rabbit-hole.
After a few more agonizing minutes that felt like an hour, trying to stop my errant thoughts, wondering if I should do a shot of tequila or just chug my wine, I needed to check my phone. I couldn’t watch her edit my story (well, I could, but that’s really creepy, and also annoying for the editor), but I could see slightly longer versions of the comments she’d posted so far.
And there it was. “This is really lovely!” Followed by “This is horrifying and I am horrified, and congratulations, I am Tense.” My breathe whooshed out. Phew! I didn’t suck. Some parts of my story were redeemable. (And note to self, compliment your writers more.)
And that first comment – the one that sent me careening downhill faster than a speeding bullet? It was her explaining that she was breaking up her feedback into the distinct vignettes in my Prologue chapter, because they are separate and discrete. Because my story structure was unusual. And not because I suck.
That, folks, is how you ride a rollercoaster of your own making down a dark tunnel before finding the light. I made a rollercoaster mountain out of a flat track and rode that sucker for more minutes than I ever should have. And I suffered for it, instead of just chilling out, accepting that writing requires work and revising. You are never at the end of the road with writing. You can always learn to be better.
As I leave you, I wanted to include this lovely graph that was floating around the editor’s chatroom, because I find it very appropriate, especially now.
Stay off rollercoasters, people. They’ll give you a heart attack based on misconceptions and beliefs about yourself that simply aren’t true.