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Saturday, October 22, 2011

heebie-jeebies |ˈhēbē ˈjēbēz|, pl. n., a state of nervous fear or anxiety

I love almost everything about writing fiction.

Getting the idea is the most fun. I can come up with concepts all day long. Ideas constantly pop into my head, or I'll see something on the street that gets me asking, "What if . . . ?" I write these down put them in an electronic file. Every so often I go over the ideas and cut-and-paste the best ones into a document called "Front Burner Concepts."

Eventually one of these grabs hold and says, "I'm the one, Dude." And then I'm totally jazzed. Because starting a book with a killer idea is like falling in love. The writing of a first draft is the first year of marriage. You're committed. You've still got glow. It's young love and that keeps you going, keeps you bringing flowers to the project all the way through.

Then comes the editing process. This is like marriage counseling. Now you've got to work to keep you and your story together. There are problems to address. And if you've received an advance, divorce is out of the question. But with time and patience and some give-and-take, you've got your final draft done.

And then . . .

I just received the page proofs from my publisher for the next book in my Mallory Caine, Zombie-at-Law series. The title is The Year of Eating Dangerously and it takes Mallory through a full year of dealing with her brain-consuming ways while defending the downtrodden in the courtrooms of Los Angeles.

This is where I get the heebie jeebies. This is the last time I'll get a crack at the book before it goes to the bookstores and readers.

Which is why I never read any of my books once they're in print. I'm too afraid I'll find a mistake, or something I wish I'd phrased differently. At least with digital self-publishing one can make changes fairly easily. But in the traditional world, usually it's one-and-out.

So, dear reader, send up a good thought for your humble correspondent as he takes pencil to page . . . and trembles.

What part of the writing process do you dearly love . . . or dread? 


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