There is something about editing, that gets under my thin skin and makes me think about all the things I have done wrong. Not necessarily in this manuscript, but perhaps the one before, and the one before that, and the next one I have yet to write yet.
Editing is like Mondays. Come Sunday night, you are convinced you know how bad something is going to be--but then you get a flat tire, and spill your iced half caff grande mocha carmel something all down your only clean shirt.
Not that it's ever happened to me.
This is purely metaphorical people.
I'm lying of course.
Wednesday is my deadline for this manuscript. So to celebrate, Thursday I am going to start a little game. It will be fun, you will want to tell all your friends.
For now, be thinking of these lyrics by Panic! At the Disco: "There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends."