Eighteen days ago my world turned upside down. I figured it would be no big deal to bring tiny kittens into my house and foster them. I’d feed them, clean their litter box, give them fresh water and continue on with my life as normal. No big deal.
Wrong.
Three dead kittens later, eye drops, antibiotics, steam showers, and subcutaneous fluids have eaten up every spare moment I have and several spare moments that I don’t have. What the heck was I thinking? The care of these kittens has not just drained my energy, it has drained my soul, and this is a problem.
It’s a problem because tomorrow is the day. It’s the day I have planned for eight weeks. The day to break open my novel and read it for the first time. I should be excited and jittery, but I’m exhausted. My wonder has gone the way of dead kittens, and that is not a happy place.
Do I seize the time I’ve carved for myself and read? Do I wait for the next free moment, even if it means waiting until November?
Fostering was supposed to be fun and a great life experience. Who knew these tiny cats were so fragile? I haven’t felt this raw since the pediatrician uttered the words “failure to thrive” over my tiny daughter’s body. I was not a good mother to a newborn human. I am not a good mother to cat newborns either. They consume every ounce of me, these tiny new beings. I give more than I have and then I give more.
Tomorrow. Do I read? Do I not? This too is supposed to be fun. The anticipation of the first read. The triumph or the tragedy when the last page is turned.
What to do….
Afthead 
Wait. If you read it now- you’ll only see every little thing wrong with it. It will be a failure to you (even though it actually isn’t), because your heart is not yet in the right place. Wait, please. Your novel will be sooo much better if you wait.
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You are so right. How do you know this? See my comment to dyaworski, but I proved your theory by trashing all over my short story that I love so much I submit it to a magazine. Tomorrow is not the day to read. Boo.
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You already know the right answer. The fact that you are asking yourself if you should do it means that you should wait. The 6 weeks is not a set number – it is arbitrary. Go for a hike, spend some time in nature, eat donuts, heal your soul. You will know when it is the right time.
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You are so wise.
I did a test. I read my short story. It was the worst thing I’ve ever read. I think some loser underachieving fourth grader put that crap down on paper. I even found a pronoun agreement error in the first paragraph. I suck. Therefore, I should probably leave my book in the drawer, because it’s 75 times longer than my short story and bound to give me many more opportunities to hate it. Sigh. This makes me sad.
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Looking with new eyes can be a positive or negative experience. Take that short story and make it what you now expect it to be. And enjoy your book knowing you will revise and edit it some day. When A Berkshire Tale was ready to be sent out for the fifth time, I kept going over and over it and making more and more changes. Finally, Charley said, ” That book has to get out of this house!” (Like it was a guest that had overstayed it’s time.” So, we shipped it out. It can back and I rejected the first galley and edited it eight more times! ‘Tis what it’ ‘Tis! When you’re ready, read it with kindness. Enjoy!
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That’s a lot of drafts, and a really good perspective. By my count you had 13 edits. Whoa…
I found a good resource that told me not to rush things. I’m not trying to win a fastest novel race.
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Good advice to take seriously. It felt like I had way more than 13 edits. And I intend to edit and revise the stories at a later time when I take each out from A Berkshire Tale and make them individual books.It’s a process, I guess?
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It is a process, and one that you thankfully can’t see the scope of when you start. Good thing I’m a process person!
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Give yourself a gift of time.You certainly deserve so much and then some. You are the best mother because you loved and it broke your heart! Read and enjoy. Give yourself a gift.
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