On Completion

How true it is that the end of one thing is only the beginning of another.  On Sunday I sent all the chapters of text to my editor.  Deadline Met.  Mischief Managed.  For now.  Pressing "send" (which I mysteriously did not feel ready to do,even though I really had to) felt exactly like mailing my wedding invitations:  No turning back, now.  I realize that's a little odd, considering that I have already knitted all summer and then flown 2000 miles to deliver all 24 knitted items, their patterns and instructions.  And the book is by no means done; this is just one of the first milestones to be passed.  But somehow sending the writing part seemed very much more scary.  Maybe because I am less confident as a writer than as a knitter.  I mean, it's kind of a numbers game, no?   There are gobs more people who would consider themselves professional writers than knitters who would do the same.  Does that mean they are all automatically better at it than I am?  Of course not, but calling myself a Writer Of Books is just such a serious and grown-up thing to do that I hardly seems my style.  Fortunately it's not something I have to do - calling myself that, I mean.  I think I will just keep knitting and see if anyone else calls me a writer.  If they don't then I haven't really grown up, and if they do, then It's not like I went around tooting my own horn, is it?.

And while I was pressing "send" so bravely, I also delivered the new-and-improved, formerly-non-fitting-but-now-actually-fitting pattern to the yarn co. that I was bellyaching about a couple of posts ago.  How sad it is to fall in hate with something one has created oneself!  I remember like yesterday how much I adored that project; how I couldn't wait to get started on it; how I decided it would be worth endangering my book deadline (twice, it turns out!) just to have it published...Now I'm nothing but glad to see the back of it.  I'm going to put the finished sample away for a while, and see if I love it again after time and other projects have dulled the pain.

I have been worried that completing my manuscript would leave me at loose ends for work to do.  So much so that I have been loading up the "pipeline" with design work and actual knitting.  Now I truly am at the beginning of the next thing:  If I am going to have anything to do next spring, I have quite a little bit to do.  I'm working on one design while waiting for go-ahead on another and dreaming up two others.  All of that in queue before Faery Ring, which is what I really feel like working on.  Self-discipline sucks.  Or I think it would, if I had much more of it.