Sunday, January 17, 2010


I have a week left to finish up revisions for my editor. One week, only a small amount of revisions, very little of my day job taking up my time and a plan as to how I want the revisions to go. And yet....I am concerned.

Pressure is good, it makes me work, deadlines are better but only if they are imposed by someone else. My own deadlines come and go and I just make another one. That is the problem with this particular scenario. My editor didn't actually say I HAD to get the manuscript done by the end of January, just that it would be a good idea. Which means that this deadline I have is more like one of my own. Hence the concern.

Oh, I am sure that it will get done, just not without some serious sweat equity the night before I should be sending it off. Cramming, it is what I do best. But one day, maybe when I'm a grown up and writing for a living it won't be like this. Maybe, just maybe I will be able to make and meet my own deadlines.

Who am I kidding? This is part of the whole package for me, the last minute changes, the "Ah crap am I going to be able to get this done on time?", the cursing under my breath and typing till 3am. It's not a style for everyone, but it works for me.

Most of the time.

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