Humble

Last Friday, I closed the Word document on my laptop and sighed. The bittersweet moment had come. I was done with the revisions to my novel. All 266 double-spaced pages of it. It was time to party and move on to my next project, but part of me was so sad to leave my work behind, to stamp it as "complete" and not work on it anymore. Then again, this baby was five months in the making (not including the two months it "sat" before I began revising). I am a good writer and editor and had taken that book apart and put it back together multiple times. It was in perfect, tip-top condition.

Then a close friend of mine, also a writer, sent me a message on Facebook. She notified me that she had started reading my book and in the first chapter she had noticed some POV problems. She sounded very apologetic about it, knowing how hard I had worked on the book and unsure of my reaction. The first thing in my mind? I wasn't happy.

My frustration was not at my friend--on the contrary, I love her even more for mentioning something. I was mad at myself. Granted, I haven't written extensively in fiction and POV isn't so much of an issue in creative non-fiction (my specialty), so it made sense that I would still have problems in this area. I still wanted to have the book perfect and ready for publishing.

What I learned is a lesson I teach over and over in my classes...and so I'm living "physician, heal thyself." When we write something, we know what it's supposed to say, the images that are being described, the attitudes and motivations of the characters. Translating that knowledge into written words so someone not in our heads (and how grateful we can be for that!) can be tricky. I tell my students all the time to have someone read their work for them and comment on the issues that the author can't or won't see by him/herself. Instead of progressing to "the next level" of revising, peer editing, I had bypassed it because, after all, I'm an English professor. Surely I wouldn't make such elementary mistakes.

I'm a fallible human--and writing teaches me that fact every day. As much as I'd like to think I could be the next Dee Henderson, I know that without good editors in my life, I'm never going to be as great as I could be. I need to be humble, admit I need help, and accept it graciously.

To be truthful, after my initial irritation with myself faded at my friend's letter, I was relieved. I instantly saw the errors and was so happy my friend had caught them. I love getting her input--and that outside perspective.

And fixing these errors gives me an excuse to hold on to my precious manuscript just a wee bit longer before I'm an empty nester looking to either have another baby novel or deal with the fact that I'm alone for the time being.