I just finished reading an excellent post by Vaughn Roycroft, Re-Revision: Getting Messy.
I thoroughly enjoyed the post - partly because I enjoy playing in the dirt and watching things grow, but also because I'm in the same mode of revision. I've worked through the easy stuff. I've even dug fairly deeply into my novel's plot lines and made it tighter and cleaner.
However, as I'm sitting here waiting to hear back from all the queries I sent out last week, I'm cycling through an emotional rollercoaster.
I've had my finger's crossed - I can't hold my breath much longer for the hopes and anticipation that someone will absolutely love the book. The longer I wait (and truly I haven't waited long), the more I convince myself that something is wrong. The feelings of dread and fear - that my sentences are too long, my characters too bland, my plot too transparent.
Vaughn's post brought some reassurance and sanity. I like the garden metaphor. The compost, weeding, watering and digging are the hard work that produces the best food. There are no shortcuts. Especially not on a night tonight, when a threatened frost could kill it all by morning. So there was extra labor tonight covering the planted things and moving the containers to safety.
Tomorrow I will let my breath out and will away the fears and doubts.