I recently took a giant leap in my writing life. Most of you know (my faithful readers) that I wrote a book last November, and that I was beginning revisions a few months ago. After doing two rewrites, I decided it was time to send my book out to be read -- well this is huge for me. I rarely ever let anyone read my work, especially a novel! However, I know that I will never grow as a writer if I don't let my work get torn to shreds. Choosing who to send my book to was tough, and it's been hard waiting as she reads it. The person I decided on has a lot of experience with both reading and editing. It's someone I respect, and I look forward to her feedback.
I feel a little outside of my comfort zone, but as each day passes, I forget that my little piece of artwork is on someone else's desk, being read by a different set of eyes. I cringe at the thought of something that I might have left out, or an inconsistency that I might not have corrected. Now I wait -- I wait to hear what she thinks, I wait to discover how my writing looks to someone else... I guess you could say, I'm growing up?
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