When I wrote very short pieces, I used to like editing. It was fun. Fix some typos, change a few things here and there. It was easy. At 30,000 words, my current WIP, Seven Minutes In Heaven, is something else. There’s structure, voice, characters, continuity, not to mention how easily it is to stop editing and start reading and lose track.
Mostly though, it’s the terror of wanting something to be the best it can be and at the same time remembering that you can’t stay still forever. I remember a book I read on writing that commented that while the first rule of writing is “butt in chair,” the second rule is “get your butt out of the chair and put it in the mail to agents.” (Yes, this was an old book.) I suspect that is doubly true for new writers because of how much one learns when one is actually writing and time I spend editing is time I’m not writing my second book.
I have one more set of feedback to go through and then I’ll be doing my final pass, formatting it, and uploading it to Amazon. Scary scary stuff.
Unless I decide to redo the cover…