In Which I Have A Panic Attack

(Photo by Jill Greenberg!)
This weekend is query weekend.

I know one thing for sure:  Last time I sent out queries, I didn't feel this way.  I also know that last time I sent out queries, I wasn't completely ready.  I wasn't 1000% over-the-moon excited and happy with my story.  I was nervous, sure, but I was also blind to my novel's faults and the things I was too scared to fix/change.

With The Color Project, I'm more than ready.  I've had 25+ opinions, and they've been honest and glorious.  Some people read more than one draft to show me how the differences between drafts have helped the story.  And while this book isn't perfect (I believe no work of art is or can ever be, and that's the beauty of it!), it's so freakin' ready I can't even....I can't even.  When I sent out the last draft, I expected lots of notes from people.  Things for thing to catch and ask me to change.  I was worried that after all this time of me feeling like "Yes, this is it" was going to go to waste.

But my readers saw what I had seen, no questions asked.  Aside from a few typos (which I promptly fixed), everybody came to the same conclusion: it was time for me to go forward.

Well, now I'm forward, and I'm paralyzed with fear.

Like, I literally just squatted next to my bed with my head resting against the sheets, feeling this overwhelming sensation of THIS IS THE END welling up like a monster.  It was horrible.  I have hated the first 10 pages of my manuscript these last few days because of this growing fear.  I've ignored all the compliments I've received and I've forgotten every one of those 25 readers who's said they loved the book from the very beginning.

Or, more like it, I assumed they were lying to me.

That's a pretty rude assumption.  I see that now.

So after the monster grew to its full potential, I finally lost it to crying.  I needed to cry over this, because I'm just that kind of person, but maybe I should have cried over it earlier.  Maybe I should have given in faster?  I don't really know.

During my panic attack, I called my friend Cassie, who I knew would put me in my place.  Her words?  "Get over it."  I laughed (in the middle of sobbing) and when she tried to apologize, I said, "No, that's why I called you specifically.  I needed to hear you say that."  Then she gave me comfort, and reminded me that I'm ready (and this book is ready) in a way that I've never been before.

That in itself is terrifying.  But that's where I find myself chanting my mother's words of wisdom, over and over again:  "Do it afraid."  Or to quote one of my favorite books in the entire world:  "Forgo breath.  Fear, not fact, impedes you."

Because the facts are pointing straight at this book being done.  The facts are that it's finished and I'm scared of jumping into the next step because NEW TERRITORY.

Weirdly enough, I'm acting just like the MC of The Color Project, Bee.  The funny part?  I created Bee to have literally all of my character/personality.  So, I guess you could say I did an a-okay job?

*breathes into paper bag*

That might be another part of it, too.  Bee is so much of me.  The story is so much of my life.  The characters were inspired by my friends and the struggles are SO DAMN REAL.  This book -- it is my greatest vulnerability.  It is everything about me scrawled out in ink, and it's about to go out into the world to be criticized.  By professionals.

HA.  *dies*

But the thing is, they won't be criticizing me, which is what I need to get out of my head.  They'll be critiquing the story, and the grammar, and fixing things, but they won't be fixing me.  The agent and editor I one day sign with -- they're going to have the same vision for this book that I do.  That's the whole point of art: finding a vision together.  Bringing people together with that vision.  I believe this book is going to do exactly that.  I believe it already has.

So, the question begs to be asked:  What the hell am I waiting for?