When I read my last blog post from over a year ago, I smiled. I didn’t sound too confident saying I was done with the manuscript, because in truth, I wasn’t done. Far from it. I don’t know what possessed me to think that way when, in reality, it took another year and half to complete it, or rather edit it and put it to rest. I’m not even sure if I am done today, just that I am stepping away and letting it rest. I trust that the final product is in its best shape possible. The gap between my last post and now, and the amount of rewriting and editing I did during that time, is a testament to that.
In January of last year, after I published that post, I gave my manuscript to a group of online writers and friends who later sent me their feedback. That feedback sent me down a rabbit hole that took the form of intense revising and editing the story to its core. I went over the entire book with a toothbrush again and reworked most of it to what I deigned perfection. It was necessary work. The book in its current form is finally complete and polished, especially its first three chapters. Still, I am not celebrating yet, because nothing is ever certain in today’s world. Rushing to present a manuscript to the world is asking for failure. Instead, I will take my time, take small steps, and look toward the future, hoping this would be the moment I finally succeed, and that I’d never have to feel insecure about my talent for writing.