The Editing Waiting Game: Readying for the Red Ink Onslaught and Other Things I’m Embarrassingly Unprepared For

There’s a certain kind of dread that comes with waiting for your manuscript edits to return—an emotional cocktail of fear, regret, and the persistent urge to throw your laptop into a dumpster and set it on fire.

Right now, I’m picturing my manuscript buried under so many track changes that the notes might rival the length of a George R.R. Martin novel—like it had an epic showdown with my editor’s keyboard and lost spectacularly. I might still be buried in these anticipated edits long after it takes dear old George to finish 'Winds of Winter'.

Regret is a funny thing. In my blissful ignorance, I thought the manuscript was ready. It felt solid, polished even—until now, when all I can see are the things I should’ve fixed myself. That sinking feeling when you realize your ‘final draft’ was more ‘draftish' than a final version of anything. "Oh, I should have toned down that same sensory phrase I used fifteen times in one chapter," I think now, far too late. "Should I have streamlined the rambling? Definitely. And maybe I didn’t need that massive info dump explaining the history of the entire world before chapter two even got going." Yes, these are the existential questions I'm grappling with as I wait for the hammer to drop. And the ultimate punishment, reading my manuscript with the digital wounds exposed—imagining the track changes and comments piling up in slow motion while knowing there's nothing I can do but nod politely when I receive them.

Torture.

To add a nice dollop of embarrassment on top, there’s the little matter of the "friends" I sent it to. You know the ones—the kind-hearted souls who innocently offered to read it, not knowing they'd be subjected to what can only be described as a literary trip through Mordor. Now, I want nothing more than to track down each and every one of their electronic devices and delete the evidence. Forever. But alas, I’m thankful for their bravery... even if they only made it a few pages before closing the document and backing away very slowly.

So, here I am, sitting on the edge of panic, waiting for the edits to come in. Do I expect my manuscript to survive? Meh. Most likely. But I’ll tell you this: My goal was never to escape with a few decent comments and a hopeful smile. No. I’m striving for a 5-star read. Not a 4. Not a 3. And definitely not one of those “I’d give it zero stars if I could” reviews. Five glorious stars. From someone other than my mom, whom I’m starting to suspect is just throwing blind praise at this point.

Stay tuned for the post where I find out just how much track changes a document can hold before Microsoft Word suggests you take up pottery.