I’ve been working on the edits for my novel. Slowly going through, moving a mass of words around. Putting all that thinking into action. And you know what? It feels pretty good. Now that I’ve actually started, I’m remembering that I was the person who wrote the book in the first place. Of course I can make changes to make it better!
I’m about 100 pages in at the moment. Still in the foothills, with an enormous climb ahead of me. The big changes are still ahead, waiting, looming, but my travels through the foothills are helping me to set up a good base for when that moment arrives.
I think it’s going to be okay. At least until I find myself hanging out over a precipice with no safety net and nothing between me and a very thin plot line (not that this will happen, of course… no way).
Starting really is the best cure for fear. You can’t focus on the anxiety while you’re trying to flesh out a character or build a setting.
All will be well. Just as long as I keep climbing – and don’t look down.
[image: mountain notebook by LittleAlexander/Etsy]