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Now what?

So last night, at about midnight, I finished the rewrite of my manuscript. I had been working on it for five years (and for a lot of that time, it had to sit on the back burner due to schoolwork) and to finally have it done is both liberating and terrifying.

I have a printed copy of it sitting in a three inch binder (because apparently 300-ish pages is a lot bigger that I thought it would be) and glaring at me from across the room. Once I find a sizable hole for it, I’ll bury it under a mountain of clothes or lock it in my closet for a few weeks.

Why?

So that when IĀ do go back for a round of edits (with red pen in hand), I’ll be looking at it with fresh eyes.

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