Today, at 2:43pm I sent off the completed galleys of The Enclave to Bethany House. Now I really am done with it. Hooray! Hallelujah! The book that seemed as if it would never get finished is finished.
It would be nice to just kick back and take a day or two to do nothing but... I have to clean my house for one, and work on media interview questions and answers for another. 7 to 10 of them. Due Wednesday. I know I'm supposed to think of questions that will generate answers that provide interesting aspects about the book to readers/listeners so they can decide if they might like to read it. But...for some reason I have a hard time with that.
There are some writers who, when finished with a book think -- and say -- it's the best book they've ever written. There are others, like me, who have no clue. If anything, every book I write seems like the worst book I've ever written. I don't trust those feelings because I know they're inaccurate, but at this point all I can think of are the things that seem wrong, or not good enough, or that people are going to laugh at or be bored by...
Just goes to show how utterly unreliable emotions are. It will take me some time to see just what has been done, but we are on such a time line, I'm not sure I'll have enough distance to really evaluate for months. I seem to remember too much too easily, so it takes a long time for some writing of mine to "cool" enough I can't recall all the options and all the supposed problems.
Right now, I'm just tired. And hoping to sleep in tomorrow.