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My nails are getting shorter and shorter. I have the biggest knot in my stomach as I wait for someone to critique my work. I haven’t had a professional scrutinize my writing since college! That’s a long time. I feel as though this is the moment I find out whether I should kick myself for waiting all these years to do this, or whether I should have kept my day job. I suppose, regardless of the outcome; regardless of how many changes I may need to make; regardless of whether or not I’m pleased with the feedback, at least I’ll know. Since I’m self-publishing, one way or the other, the book will be published. But this waiting game is for the birds.

Since it’s been so long since anyone has truly critiqued my writing, I’m preparing for the worst, but hoping for the best.

I’m preparing for my editor to tell me:

This is complete garbage! I suggest you go back to the drawing board. Change this, this, and this; scrap that; just start over! Maybe consider going back to teaching. But if you really want to get it published, who am I to stop you? 

What I’m hoping for my editor to tell me:

Marvelous! Simply marvelous! Best manuscript I’ve read in years! I cried, it was so good. Let me just make a few minor suggestions. . .

I know both scenarios are over-the-top. But this is what I think about as I wait. I truly don’t know what to expect. The least I can do is humor myself, right? This is one of the single most moments I’ve dreaded about this process. The other is actually publishing something for the world to see. Talk about nail biting, I’ll have nubs by the time that moment rolls around. Oh well. To all my newbies out there, stay tuned. It can either go up or down from here. In the mean time, I continue to wait.