Absolutely hilarious to me right now that my chief concern just two days ago was how I would manage to record and upload essays that are not published yet. That are not yet finished.
For the record, I bought a gorgeous little microphone that will judge me from its drawer while I labor over the next revision of this thing. While I falter at each hurdle.
The edit is back. It's incredibly painful and difficult to do this, there's no way around it. You hand over your blood and tears and a stranger tells you how your blood and tears might be improved. I trust this stranger, and I know I asked for/paid for this. But that doesn't mean it is easy.
But I'm equal parts encouraged and despairing, so at least that scale is balanced. There is a lot of work ahead, and I can't say I didn't entertain the thought of just putting this away and moving on. But I'm digging out of the hole a little at a time.
I have not yet opened the full, edited manuscript, just the pages-long editorial notes. It's a rollercoaster, but it gets easier to read each time I do it, and I'm sitting with it, trying to take it in, be open. What felt impossible the first time through is feeling like less of a chore now, and the tiny part of me that likes a creative challenge might soon come out from under the covers.
But no one is making me do any of this. No one asked for it. This is all my choice, which is what I have to remember. It is a thing I want, even if it boils down to not wanting to have wasted all this effort and time and money. If it motivates, it can stay.