Freaking Out a Little

Okay, so here's the deal.  You might've guessed that I'm smack in the middle of a crisis of self-confidence.  (Or you might not have.  I skipped posting a lot of the worst of it.)  I know it's not rational, but right now, I think everything I write sucks.  In fact, the little voice in the back of my head... You know the one... keeps telling me that everything I've ever written sucks and the future ain't lookin' too good either. (Henceforth, this place shall be known as the ES Zone.)

Enter yesterday morning.  I opened my Outlook and watched the universe deposit a shiny new email in my 'Agent' box.  (Yes, I'm such a geek. I trained my Outlook to place anything with the word 'query' in the subject into its own box.)  Of course, with as negative as I've been feeling, it had to be a rejection.

Except it wasn't.

You'd think my first reaction would be one of glee.  You know, jumping around, doing the Snoopy dance, celebrating a little before I sent my awesome packet out.  My reaction wasn't even close to that.  I think my first thought was 'Sunuvabitch' and then, 'How in the world am I going to send out a quality packet with any confidence if I think everything sucks right now'.  I couldn't even look at the damn thing to make sure I was wrong.  Hell, I'm at the point where I even think my grocery lists are lame.

Don't get me wrong.  I know I loved this story when I first wrote it.  I loved it even more when I rewrote it to make the middle sing.  Now?  Well, the ES Zone doesn't allow for love.  It sure as hell doesn't allow for objectivity.  It just sucks everything into the same pool and leeches the wonder out of it.

So, I was freaking out a little.

I didn't tell my husband.  I didn't say a word to Mom.  I just ran around on the little hamster wheel in my head, thinking "As god is my witness, I don't know what to do."  I debated sending out a blanket email beseeching people for help.  I briefly pondered the idea of writing the nice agent a lovely letter asking her to be patient while I rewrote everything I'd ever written - because, of course, I stink on ice.

Instead, I cleaned.  I scrubbed the kitchen floor by hand.  I dust-mopped and swept and vacuumed.  I beat rugs until I was covered in a thin layer of dust.  When I was too tired to move, I flopped on the couch and read while I watched TV.  Later, I delved deeper into my family tree - discovering a spot where my suspicions were confirmed.  (I knew at some point I'd find cross-breeding in my direct descendent line.)  Finally, as my husband was heading off to the nice warm bed I wanted to climb into, I screwed my courage up, pulled my big girl panties on, and got to work.

I'm trying to forge through the ES Zone - re-reading with an eye toward fatal errors, but not changing anything major because I know I'm being Super Subjective Sally right now.  My fingers itch to wipe everything away and start over - using someone else's brain and hands because mine suck so bad - but I'm pushing ahead.  Just because I'm in the ES Zone doesn't mean I actually suck.  I'm just not objective at the moment.  (Yeah, yeah.  I don't suck.  I'm just not being objective. That's the ticket.)

Here's hoping the agent isn't hanging out in the ES Zone herself.  Now THAT would truly suck.

If all goes well, the submission materials will be going out today or tomorrow.  Wish me luck.

Update: 6:55pm - Submission package sent.  I looked everything over and I did the best I could.  Thanks, Everyone, for your well wishes and luck.  We'll see how it goes from here.