I'm trying to revise my WIP (translation: failing miserably at it). I have some major revisions I need to tackle, but they are in the middle and near the end of the book. But I keep getting stuck at the beginning of the book because I want to polish before I move any deeper.
I know it's a stall tactic on my part; I'm still not sure how, exactly, I'm going to fix some of those scenes near the back. But I'm also dealing with some PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder for you non-psychologists in the crowd). I shared the first draft (yes, the very first draft) with my agent, who of course said he loved it and then gave me some suggestions of places that needed revisions, which I agreed to tackle next.
But now I'm looking at the manuscript and cringing at how terrible it is. And my agent liked it? *GASP* He must either be lying to me or delusional! Because there is no way this pile of poo I call a manuscript can be loved by anyone other than Oscar the Grouch. He likes garbage. This manuscript is garbage. I should just give it to Oscar and cut my losses.
But on a good note, I normally have a panic attack and doubt myself as I'm trying to figure out how to revise the first draft. So you might say I'm wigging out right on schedule. And next up is The Breakthrough, so I guess I should hold on a little bit longer.
Sorry, Oscar. I'm keeping the manuscript after all.