It is done. The Revision From Hell is finished. I sent my second draft to my editor this afternoon.
All in all, revising The Thing About Werewolves has been an exhausting, punishing experience. I worked seven days a week. I put in very long hours. Not only did I work harder than I thought I would or could, there were many times I found myself wondering if I was doing too much. If this process of analysing my failures and making them right had stirred that perfectionism streak I try so hard to smother.
I thought about that frequently during these last 7 weeks of hell and I kept coming down to this.
You get to a certain age and there are no more brass rings hanging from the sky. There is only one. This is it. This is your chance. There won’t be another one. So suck it up. Be Paul Potts. Put everything you have into that moment. Forget what they think, forget what you think. You know you have it inside you–don’t be coy, you know it’s there. Reach deep, pull it out.
Be Paul Potts. Dissolve every minute of your life–all your heartaches, all your wisdoms, all your loves, all your hatreds, aand every other damn thing you have inside you and put on the line.
Because, darlin’, that’s your brass ring and nobody is going to grip it for you.
Now, in case you’re not one of the 98 million people who have watched this–here he is: the guy people had written off, going for the high note.