Skydiving, parachute optional.

Today, I handed my revised manuscript to my beta readers.

Then I threw up.

Just kidding. But it was very, very close.

I didn't expect that I would tense up the way that I did. I imagine that this is what it must be like for a kindergarten parent to send her little one off to school on the bus for the very first time. When I lined up my beta readers I didn't anticipate these kind of emotions. I sent them all emails, they said yes, I was happy about it, and that was that. Until today.

After spending a month with this character and listening to her tell me her story, and spending days in November where it seemed like I was living it with her, this novel has become my baby. To hand it off to someone else was terrifying. It didn't start out feeling like that. At first I was really excited.

Wow! I thought. Someone is going to be reading my book!

I packed up five copies of my manuscript, packaged them into five manila envelopes with some basic instructions/requests and a Happy New Year card, and dropped them off for the next few weeks. My last stop saw me deliver one of these little bundles to a good friend of mine who I met during my last year of full-time teaching. A librarian by trade and by training who possesses a wealth of experience in writing thorough and critical book reviews, I asked her to work my book over well.

"Oh, you know I will," she said, a sly smile reminiscent of the moment that the Grinch got his wonderful, awful idea slowly creeping across her face.

(Just for the record, my friend looks nothing like this.)

I said something to the effect of how her help would improve my story and make me a stronger writer and blah blah blah. Then I ran out of her library before I had to buy a new pair of pants.

As I drove home on I-4, the panic struck. What have I done? I asked myself. My book is out there! People are going to be reading it tonight! I was a skydiver who had just just left the plane for the very first time, watching the Earth come at me with blistering speed while having difficulty remembering how to breathe, let alone find and pull a ripcord.

Then I took a breath. And relaxed. And put things in perspective. I'm already a professional writer. I have a healthy Elance customer base, short stories that have been paid for and published, ghostwritten novels that have been published, and numerous other work that has already seen the light of day on many occasions, including this blog, which has nine or ten regular readers! I am not new to selling my writing.

So why I was I freaking out?

I believe it has to do with the fact that this novel has my name on it. In my other projects, I have written for other people and enjoyed the safety of being able to hide in the shadows after collecting my paycheck. This time, I'm writing for me. If it's a failure, I'm attached to it, forever and ever, amen. If it's a success and goes on to do amazing things, I can sit back and smile and say, "That's my book!"

Yes. It truly is my baby. And we'll see how it does out there in the world, on its own.

In the meantime, there are other little novels still developing here at home that need my care and attention.

Good night, readers. Your turn is coming soon.