Stressed Out


I handed in a completed first draft of my book to my agent this week. It’s missing the epilogue, but the narrative ends with the final chapter so the heart of the book, the story part is done. I’m way ahead of schedule. By the time my editor sees it, it will be six months ahead. I’m sitting pretty and should be happy, but here’s what’s going on inside my head:

They’re going to just cancel the book it’s that bad, no one will ever pay me to write a book again, no one else will hire me, pretty soon I will be homeless, my cats will die, I will die, but not before realizing that I’ve let everyone who helped me write this book down. I’m an idiot. I did a bad job. I suck. Etc.

Because of my MBSR classes, I’m freaking out, but I’m freaking out mindfully. Big difference. (Kill me now.) Here’s a list of things I want to talk about when I’m not freaking out:

– So You Think You Can Dance.
– The guy who slammed into me on the street today. (Jerk. No, jerk to the infinity power.)
– My Stupid Un-Healing Arm.
– The Echo financial stuff that’s stressing me out.
– Chihuahuas, as in “I want one.”

Tomorrow I’ve got an MBSR thing from 9 – 1, then I’m going out to Long Island for my nephew Christopher’s graduation party. Hopefully I will be feeling better by then. (It’s almost guaranteed that I will.)

(That picture above is of Travis Wall, the guy I wanted to win So You Think You Can Dance last year.)

Stacy Horn

I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.

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