Breathing into a paper bag

There's something different about the blog today.  See if you can guess.

Nope.

Nope.

Not that either.  Give up?  Look to the right.  Yes, I know.  It's the same picture of my cover art.  Click it.  Go on, you know you want to.  I'll wait here.

CLICK IT!

I'm on my publisher's coming soon page.  I exist!  I'm a real rabbit now!  So that's fabulous news, right?

Except for the part where I freak out.  Each step closer makes me more nervous instead of relieved. That's the dirty little secret of publishing and writer egos, because I'm sure I'm not alone in this.  As writers, we stay focused for so long on landing an agent or selling a book that when it finally happens--euphoria!  We're so afraid no one will ever say yes, that it's like magic when it comes.  But magic doesn't last.  

Daylight arrives and we all know the magic dies at midnight.  The editing process beings and brings a new fear.  I'll never be able to get this manuscript right.  It's a daunting task and so the writer sweats and toils and chews nails and kills "its" and "thats" and a multitude of adverbs and dull scenes are polished and finally--finally--the editor says it's done.  A big relief.  You've passed muster.  But there is always another hurdle, isn't there?

What next?  What about my next book, the one I'm frantically writing? What if I can't finish?  What if my editor hates this one?  And what about book one?  What if everyone hates it?  What if the reviewers laugh at me?  I could become a bad blog meme.  What if I've missed some whopper of a typo?  And perhaps even worse...what if it doesn't sell?  What if my book creeps in on little cat paws, quiety sits on its haunches, then steals away?  What if I sell five copies, on to my sister and each of my aunts.  My career is over before it has begun.  I'm a failure. 

Now you're understanding the paper bag over my head.  I'm going to sit here and breathe quietly for a moment.

Please send chocolate and tell me I'm not alone in this.