Well, tomorrow’s the big day. Not only am I meeting my editor (and the rest of whoever I get to meet at the publishing company) and my agent face-to-face, but I’m also getting my Edit Letter.

This is where my editor and her compatriot editor sit and rip my baby apart in front of me and tell me how they think I can improve upon the DNA and raising of my child.

Sounds harsh, doesn’t it? I mean…as an author, this book is my baby. I’ve slaved over it. Cried over it. Beaten my head against a desk for it more than a few times. I’ve agonized and laughed hysterically and shoved it out into the cold, cruel world begging for it to be noticed. And it has. It has been noticed.

Those critical eyes also noticed that it needs some tweaking, some polishing, some “where can we go with this” suggestions. And God help me, I’m sure they’ll have some “this has to go” suggestions, too.

Some authors can get wildly defensive when it comes to this stuff, and understandably so. But in all honesty…I’m so excited about this. I really, really am.

I love it when someone digs into one of my stories and then asks questions. It makes me a better writer, and my editor’s job is to ask all the questions that a potential reader might ask. We need to know what’s going to arrest a thought stream or cause that willing suspension of disbelief to plummet to the earth. I can’t look at this in an unbiased way – it’s my baby, after all. That’s why those extra eyes – and the hand clutching that red pen – are so very, very important.

Tomorrow will be a give and take. They’ll ask, I’ll explain, and we’ll decide if I need to explain that better or if we just need to find another way to do whatever it is I’m trying to do in that chapter. I expect it’ll all look overwhelming at first, but I can’t wait to start gulping that bear down…one bite at a time.

It’s all part of the process, people. And I’m ready. Bring it.