On my desk is a 310 page manuscript, spiral bound with a clear front cover and navy back, printed two-sided with wide spacing (but not quite double) for readability. On the front cover is the title of the work and beneath it my chosen pseudonym. At the top-right it says 86,900 words, which seems to be Scrivener’s way to legitimize it as a novel, as if the weight alone does not do so.
While not inexpensive, the trip to FedEx Office to convert the bits and bytes into a physical piece of collateral changed my perspective on the novel. It is no longer just a book that I think about and bore my family talking about, it’s something my wife was able to hold in her hands while asking me, “does it feel real now?” Yes, it does. By the way, the FedEx Office online interface is pretty great. You upload your PDF, make style and substance choices, and they show you the finished product on the screen and allow you to browse through it. Cool.
Before putting this manuscript away for 4-6 weeks, hiding it in a bedside stand in a plastic bag, I decided I needed some pens for the future editing task. After a small amount of research, I selected the uni-ball Jetstream RT ballpoint pens in a multi-colored 3-pack, ordered from Amazon. Those pens will sit on top of the manuscript, confined in their plastic packaging but ready.
So now I shift to other priorities, like working on the plot for a new novel and getting myself prepared for the tasks that follow the production of the second draft. Those include identifying all the agents to whom I’d like to submit the novel, creating a solid pitch and synopsis, drafting my query letter, calling and talking to my (hopefully) beta readers, and practicing my patience. As I understand it, the time after submission can be lengthy. After the daily grind of writing and editing, that part feels anti-climactic.