Here I Go

Today's the day.

To be more specific, which is a thing I like to be so as not to be vague, today's the day for my writing critique with the Writer-in-Residence at the RPL (see this post). I brought her the first three chapters of my book a few weeks ago, she read them, and today I'm going in to sit in front of her and hear her say the honest truth about them. 

Terrifying. 

I've handed my book, the whole thing, off to friends to read through and edit, but this is very different because this woman has no obligation whatsoever to be nice to me, to protect my feelings, to lie to me. In fact, her only obligation to me is to give me her honest opinion about my work.

Horrifying.

My appointment is in one hour and nine minutes. 

Thankfully (so thankfully) the dear WIR sent me the most wonderful email last night about the pages I sent her. She was so kind and so encouraging, and she made me feel like the Queen of England, and that makes this just a billion times easier. 

I still feel a little like I'm going to throw up and faint and drive into a pole on the way to the meeting, but at least I don't have to also entertain the fear that I'm going to show up and immediately be torn to shreds. Before I received that email, I was a nervous wreck. Now I'm just nervous, but more excited than wrecked.

Maybe that's the scariest part about getting your book critiqued: the part at the very, very beginning where the other person says either, "Yes, I believe in this/you/your writing," or...well, basically anything else. The part where they respect you and take you seriously or not. 

Anyway. Here I go.