Four Days Until I Hit Send

Tuesday is query day. This weekend is the last pass.

---

Four Days Until I Hit Send

Tuesday is query day. This weekend is the last pass.

I’ve been absent for a while.

Not because I disappeared. Because I went head down.

Editing has taken everything I’ve got, and I haven’t had much energy left for anything else. So, okay. Here I am.

This story has been in my life for six years. In and out of it. Living in it. Leaving it. Coming back again. Not always sure I could finish it. Not always sure I even knew what “finish” meant.

I’ve been writing in the dark the whole time.

There were stretches where I wasn’t sure I was capable of writing a book, never mind editing it into something worthwhile. But something kept running in the background—faith in the unknown, faith that the work would amount to something, faith that if I stayed with it long enough, it would eventually become a real thing.

Now it is.

I’ve finished editing three drafts. I evaluated beta feedback. I made changes. I polished. I tightened. I lived inside the sentences until I got sick of my own words.

And this weekend, I’m reading the entire book again.

One final pass.

Even though I’m tired of living in this story, I owe it that last look—the kind where you stop trying to perfect and start trying to make sure nothing is loose. The kind where you stop chasing “better” and start protecting what’s already working.

At the same time, I’m making final edits to my query letter. Finalizing my top 20 agent prospect list.

Monday is my buffer day for anything last minute.

And Tuesday is the day.

The day the book officially leaves my hands. Leaves the small circle of friends and family and tries to enter the real world of publishing.

I’m nervous to let this book go.

But more than that, I’m afraid of the silence. Afraid of sending this thing out and hearing nothing back.

And still, I’m proud.

Because at the end of the day, I wrote a book.

That’s the truth I’m trying to hold onto when my mind starts sprinting ahead into worst-case scenarios.

So Tuesday will be a day of mixed emotions.

Excitement. Fear. Excitement again. Anxiety. Impatience. The urge to check my inbox every hour and having to talk myself out of it.

Then the longer wait.

Days. Weeks. Maybe longer.

Waiting for the first query response. If that comes, waiting for the next. If pages are requested, waiting again. If a full manuscript is requested, waiting again.

It’s a strange thing to work this hard and then be asked to do the one thing you can’t do: control what happens next.

So I’ve decided on my next move.

While I wait, I’m going to keep doing what I do.

I’m going to start the next book.

Because that’s the only part I can control. The work. The page. The next sentence. The next story.

If you’ve ever been on the edge of something you want badly—something you’ve built in private for a long time—you probably know this feeling. The moment right before you let it go.

If you do, I’d love to hear it.

What are you releasing this year—letting go of, or sending out into the world?

— T.C.

---