It’s 9:52 on Sunday, February 28th. And my manuscript is done.
I just pressed “send” on a full request, and for the first time, I know I’ve just sent off the book I wanted to write. It’s taken me just shy of three years of writing, one year of editing, four workshops, ten beta readers, two insanely devoted editors, and one emotional breakdown, but I did it. This is the novel I wanted to write.
My hands are shaking.
That feeling that I expected to feel when I finished the first draft has arrived nearly a year later. I’m literally sitting on the verge of tears. After 50 straight hours of editing and writing (with three meal breaks and a handful of sleep), including a full line edit that eliminated a thousand words today, I finished my first manuscript six days before my twenty-third birthday.
I have never, ever been so proud of myself. Real life starts now.
M
