All That's Left are the Typos and the Misplaced Commas

(Not counting the deep clean of my apartment that needs to happen before I turn over my keys.)

My thesis is due next week and I have turned into that girl at camp who keeps catching all her friends by the arm and saying, "Wait! Let me take a picture of this!" suddenly aware that the closing ceremony is just a couple days away.

Yesterday I finally stitched it all together in one document. Seven stories, one hundred and sixty pages and a part of me was surprised by everything I've written that wasn't there at all.  A good half (if not more) of the stories and pages I wrote, especially that first year, didn't make the cut. Although I was the one who cut them, it still surprised me a little. A little while ago Eileen (of Speak Coffee) mentioned the 10,000 hour rule. That rule is, you aren't a professional at something until you've spend 10,000 hours doing it. I think those early pages were the early hours of my 10,000. They weren't anything more than the hours needed to get my sea legs.

I'm not near 10,000 hours yet. Not that I've been keeping count, exactly. There won't be confetti and trumpets blaring when I do cross that line. But I know I'm a better writer, now. If only because all the places I edited and revised heavily in my older pieces were the places my adviser marked "good!" and "nice language!" The hours pay off, however small the evidence is.

I'm going to read for stray commas and meticulously look for typos this week, but I'm going to resist the urge to change sentences or pick at paragraphs. I already submitted some of the stories, and will submit more come September, when a lot of lit magazines re-open their reading periods. I'm still not blown away by my work, but I'm so in the thick of it that I'm not sure I'm in any place to judge. So I'm just going to send it out there and see what happens. I'm going to keep jumping into the water.

And, though I am taking photos of every remarkable meal I eat, dragging my heels a little, irrationally hoping to slow these last experiences down, I'm looking forward to what comes next. I'm excited about the jobs I've applied for. I'm hopeful about the next adventure. Next stop: Ithaca!

(Except for those dark corners of the bathroom I'll need to scrub.)

Comments

[Eileen]

Congratulations! That's a huge milestone!

Best of luck with the job hunt. :)