Today, I’m reading through Gabriel one last time to catch my ugly nits—you know, grammar issues, misspellings, clunky sentences. As many times as I’ve read the chapters, you’d think there would come a time when I’d find ZERO to fix. Hah! I have things that are published now, and if I go grab a scene for something, I find another error. It happens. Even to writers who write for big publishing houses. I know, because I used to do that. Now, I’m on my own. I have three trusted beta readers who help me find some of my errors, but the rest is up to me.
If I were one of those authors who actually wrote their books months in advance of publication, I might have several chances to skim through what I’ve written, but I’m my own publisher now. So, it’s ALL on me.
Sometimes, I wish I was one of those authors who could sit without pressure and write pages and pages, following a production schedule plan. That’s not me. I require adrenaline to produce. I have to be staring at the deadline to upload my book before I can kick my ass into gear. It’s not just the problem of forcing myself to sit at my computer and type, it’s an issue of inspiration. I swear to you, I write better, my stories make more sense, and my scenes pop when I’m on a caffeinated frenzy to finish a book. The language of my books tends to be more realistic, too.
The book I’m wrapping up today to format and load before TOMORROW’S deadline wouldn’t exist without adrenaline. Fig, my heroine, wouldn’t be as tangible. The action scenes wouldn’t be as crisp.
Yeah, sometimes, I wish I was one of those writers, but today, I’m happy I’m not.