Unsnapping the Rubber Band

As all of you know, I seldom talk about myself. My characters are so much more interesting than me, sitting at my desk, pounding out my stories. However, today I decided to invite you into my world.

What stresses me most about writing? The better question would be what doesn't stress me about writing?

I stress over opening sentences in a new scene. What the scene is about, I have that down cold. It's the blasted first line that stumps me. Most people can just start writing. I need that opener. It sets the tone for the scene. Without it, I flounder. And yes, before you ask, I am a perfectionist. Fortunately, I have some trusted friends who are excellent at feeding me just the right opening line to get me going.

I stress over writing love scenes. My scenes can range from tame to spicy hot, depending upon the characters and situation. But they are always emotion-laden. It isn't the emotion that gives a problem, it's my flaming cheeks as I write the mechanics. (Tab A into Slot B) Sometimes writing a love scene feels like a trip to the hardware store. How many screws can you write?

I stress over finishing the book. It doesn't matter that I've been published before. Each book is a new endeavor. Can I finish it? Will it have the emotional impact needed? Will I do my characters justice? Will my middles sag? Will I dry up at Chapter twenty-two of a twenty-three chapter book?

I stress over my freelance editor telling me to take a long vacation from writing every time I send a new work to her. That I'm back to using too many commas or not enough commas. That I've misused there/their/they're or you/your/you're again.

I stress over my characters going on strike and refusing to tell me what comes next.

I stress over the stars being properly aligned for the release date of my book.

I stress whether readers will like my books, including reviewers. It didn't matter that I'd gotten five stars from multiple review sites and a four-pack howl from Bitten by Paranormal Romance. I almost fell apart at a three star review of Warrior's Rise. I was gutted. Ironically, it's an excellent review, well-reasoned and analyzed. It took two glasses of wine for me to see beyond the three stars, and a swift kick my behind by several close friends.

I stress over whether readers will accept that Dragon Child is a lot sexier than Warrior's Rise. But hey, a wereleopard and dragon shapeshifter are bound to have more heat. Aren't they?

As an indie, I stress over my sales to point where I check them more often than a diabetic checks her blood sugar.

I guess you could say I need Prozac. Oh, wait, I'm already on it.

Someone help me.