As I revise my WIP--a contemporary YA with one or more characters that happen to be dead--all I can think about are endings. How my book will end. How blissful it feels to type THE END. I’m racing towards the final chapter this week! Yay! Uncork the champagne!
Oh wait. Stuff the cork back in the bottle. Next week I have to revise from the beginning because of all the ideas that occurred to me while I worked. When that’s done, I’ll show the manuscript to one or more trusted critique partners, which will mean more changes. Then I’ll be finished!
Oh wait. My agent will see it next. She’ll probably want some spiffing before sending it out to editors. And—if we’re lucky enough to sell it—the editor will want further changes. Then there’s copy-edits, page proofs, etc. Whew! When that's over, let's celebrate!
Oh wait. Then there's marketing. Doom. Doom. Doom. Marketing is not my favorite.
No wonder everyone loves beginnings. They are untainted by reality. In fact, I’m toying with a brilliant idea for a novel right now. It’s shiny. Fun. New. Break out the champagne!