I am currently putting the final, final, absolutely final touches to my manuscript, as suggested by my agent. I have been working on this book since late 2012. I have written and rewritten and touched up and rewritten and at this point – I absolutely hate it. I never want to see it again. I loathe it. I am certain it cannot be any good.
I know it’s because I’m too close to it. I’ve spent too much time fiddling with it, even to the choice of certain words. I’ve discovered links, and researched the subject intensively and thought endlessly about how to improve it. I’ve thought of little else for over a year, and now that’s it’s almost over, I’m sick of it.
I always get this stage. Just before it’s done, I get this ‘it’s rubbish, it’s vile and if I never see it again it’ll be too soon’ feeling.
However, I know perfectly well once I let it go, and forget about it for six months, it’ll be fine. If I don’t look at it, if I work on something else, if I forget it even existed, and then go back to it, I’ll like it. I doubt I’ll love it, I’m far too aware that the book I write doesn’t live up to the book in my head. But I will like it. I’ll enjoy it. I may even be impressed by certain moments.
I just have to get through this stage of hating it.