Kitten-Licking (or, the Art of Revision)

I have a bad habit. Ok, I have several. I can’t stop revising. This is part of my problem as a reluctant writer; it never feels done. Each time I read it I want to tweak a sentence here, or add a flourish there, or delete a word. I keep thinking, I can make it better. I can make it better.

The amazing Jennifer A. Nielsen once said to me, (She came to our library and I told myself I wasn’t going to be THAT person, you know the one, the every-person-in-the-world-is-writing-a-novel-can-I-bore-you-with-the-details. I lasted about an hour before blurting out all my hang ups at her like she was a literary therapist. *and hey wouldn’t that be a great job?) Any way, she said. “At some point you stop making it better and are just making it different.”

My coworker Rachael calls it “kitten-licking”, like a momma cat who just can’t stop licking her kittens, even though they are probably as clean as they can get.

This feeling of, what if I want to fix it, has kept me from submitting so many times. I need to keep polishing it and polishing it until it is so shiny that whoever reads it can’t possibly hate it because it has transcended mere words. (This is totally unrealistic, I know.)

When explaining my fear to a friend yesterday I had to laugh because I actually don’t mind criticism at all- at all! It’s the anticipation of the criticism that makes me want to barf on my shoes. It’s like when you’ve got to get a shot and you’re all tense and repeating the litany of “I hate shots, I hate shots,” in your mind. The cold sterilizing cotton ball on the inside of your elbow sets your teeth on edge and watching a nurse approach with the needle could torture a confession from you, but the actual pain of the shot? Momentary- forgettable- and (if you aren’t an antivaxer) beneficial.

This week I won (by random selection) the opportunity to have my work read by a previous winner of the contest I am entering. It was the same reaction all over again. But this time? I am screwing my courage to the sticking place and looking this challenge in the eye. I am going to email him a link to my entry on google docs on Monday. It doesn’t have to be perfect- I mean it wouldn’t be much of a prize if it were- I just need to do it. I am sure I will be in knots for however long it takes him to read and suggest edits, but once it’s out there in the universe- I can let it go.

I wouldn’t say no if you felt the urge to pray for me, however.