Still no proofs. Well, no, that’s not fair – they’ve almost certainly arrived by now, but I haven’t had the opportunity to go and pick them up. I’ve been away for the last week, so I haven’t been fretting too much, but I am very aware of how much I just want to be done already.
That’s normal for this stage in proceedings.
Other things which seem to be normal for this stage in proceedings:
- wanting people to read it. The more people who read it and tell me that actually my portrayal of [whatever I’m worrying about this week] is OK, the better I feel about it.
- not wanting people to read it. People tell me about how much they’re looking forward to reading it and I mutter and shuffle. What if it’s a horrible disappointment? I’m putting my soul on a plate here. At least, that’s what it feels like. To everyone else, of course, it’s just a book. I have to remind myself that, even if they are disappointed, they’re not disappointed in my soul, but only in a book.
- relatedly, the conviction that I’ll have managed to offend all my dearest friends.
- being able to see, albeit from some distance, the point where what other people think doesn’t seem relevant any more, the point where I say: It’s done. I did the best I could. It’s just going to have to do.
Yep, that’s pretty much the mix.
That picture, where is it? It’s beautiful.
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It’s the south west coast of the Isle of Wight, looking westwards. It’s a lovely place to be on a sunny day.
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