You’d think that after three edits and a round of proofreading I’d be anxious to get my book in the hands of my beta readers. And I am. But surprisingly, it’s more anxiety than excitement. In fact, I’m a ball of nerves.
Sure, some of my anxiety is most likely due to other huge events in my life, but knowing people are reading my book is driving me crazy. Do they like it? Do they find it contrived and derivative? Is it the best book they’ve ever read? It has taken all my willpower not to bug my beta readers every couple of minutes since I sent them their links yesterday morning.
Of course, my most important beta reader has already read and enjoyed my story. My wife read it after the second edit. Now you might be thinking that my wife was probably an easy critic. If so, you don’t know my wife. She has a way of being brutally honest without being mean. And she’s a voracious reader. She tears through thrillers, murder mysteries, and suspense novels. When she finds an author she likes, she’ll read everything that author has published. She was instrumental in helping me identify a couple plot holes and a few missing scenes that helped round out a couple of the characters. She is a fantastic editor who made my story better.
Still, she’s my wife, and she loves me. So I know no matter how brutally honest she is, she will never be my harshest critic. Which brings me back to my beta readers.
I’m so grateful to everyone who has volunteered to be an early reader. So far there are seven. I’ve instructed each of them to be honest and objective. I’d rather they catch my mistakes than some random reader who then decides to leave a one-star review, or worse yet, never give my future books a try.
I’m hoping for feedback soon. Until then, don’t mind me. I’ll be curled up in a corner quietly rocking back and forth and weeping.
