When I came home after finishing my M.F.A. thesis for UNH, the weekend after my defense, Nanna told me I should just publish it. Call it “Short Stories”. Because if I take any of those pieces, rework them, and publish them later, who’s going to say it’s a problem? (Well, most literary magazines, but that’s more a logistical issue and not the point of what he said.)
I’ve spent my whole life surrounded by software guys (my father included of course, a lot of my friends, all of my exes, my current boyfriend, and most of my uncles – the relative kind and the family friend kind) and here’s the thing I’ve learned about why software projects are different from books: they get another chance; I don’t.
They can release an app or a website and based on user feedback make as many changes as they like. There’s a reason that every other time you open an app a notification pops up saying the app needs to be updated or why a lot of websites look completely different every so often.
But if I print a book and years later edit and revise it and print it again, no one will want to read it again. (I mean, maybe some people would, but they’d have to either have too much time on their hands or plan on re-reading it anyway; and I’d be a hypocrite to ask because I’ve never re-read a single book in my life even the ones I absolutely love). Perfectionism is useless to me, but so is spending a lifetime revising the same work over and over hoping it’ll become better than it can be.
But my father made another point years ago that also stuck with me: how long can you spend editing something until you’re ready to let go? The truth is – a lifetime. But then what’s the point? Over the years, I’ve had several teachers, and professors, and mentors say something along the same lines: sometimes you just have to do your best then let go and see what happens.
If you spend your lifetime editing, you’ll never actually be a writer.
So stop overthinking it and just hit the PUBLISH button – like I’m about to.
