One thing the agent requested along with the revisions was a document listing the changes made to the manuscript; it’s a firm condition for further consideration. Although I had the fortitude to record the edits in the moment, a series of cuts and insertions sprinkled throughout altered the page numbering slightly. Which made the document less helpful as a reference point for the agent.

And so today I spent five hours vetting the change matrix and making sure each revision traced back to the indicated page and chapter. Right up there with watching enamel paint dry in terms of excitement. More interesting was seeing the contributions of Kerry and Oriana in the book. Ever since the last major revision, I suspected minor glitches were lurking about, but damned if I could spot them. Like cracks in a ceiling. after a certain point, the mind fools the eyes into looking around–and not at–the creases. In the end I had a table spanning eleven pages, with clean and consistent designations.

The Last Track is now two pages longer and just under 90,000 words. Getting there meant modifying about five percent of the manuscript.

Which brings me back to the entry title, which is somewhat dubious because the fear is truly a beast with a two-pronged pitchfork. So maybe “The Fears” fits better.Like for starters, did I change the right five percent? After all, that’s a lot of ink left untouched. Maybe one more scene needed a face-lift.

And of what I revised, did I, as Tim Gunn says, “Make it work.” I suppose that kind of failure is worse changing something that did not need correction. That in fact, is worse than missing the problem in the first place. But the new content might have weakened the finished product, and I’m no longer in a position to be certain about that. Too many months and years staring at the same ceiling.

Ultimately, both possibilities are largely irrelevant.

What matters is following the project through to the end. And on Sunday night when I e-mail the manuscript and table this phase is over.

Though the table of changes that will accompany the manuscript back to the agent needs a quick pass, the edits for The Last Track are finished It’s been a long road to this point, one I never expected would take nearly four years. I have learned many lessons about writing as a craft by writing a novel, found my voice, and discovered the most effective approaches for me.

Here’s a short list of personal discoveries:

1) Short scenes—one to five pages in length best complement my style. The less acreage there for hiding, the more likely I will keep the ball rolling.

2) Almost every draft seems a lot closer to the mark immediately upon completion. Once the self-love affair wanes a bit, cracks in the narrative will show.

3) When I start hating a project because it’s dragging, it’s time for a break. Taking a step back might just mean pushing away from the keyboard for an hour, or in other cases it means working on another manuscript for a few weeks.

4) Once I realize and accept where I went wrong, it’s much easier to recognize similar dalliances in other writing projects or in the same story. And those foibles are in there. Somewhere. Much like a roach, for every gnarly insect a homeowner spots near the pantry, there are a hundred more slithering through the sheet rock.

5) Feedback is almost always positive.

6) There is a time and place for a professional proofreader: around the time the manuscript is 90 percent–or more–in the pocket. Otherwise the comments will take longer to read than the story.

Enough writing noise for one day. I gotta pack for Russia…

Kerry delivered the edits for The Last Track three days early. Forty-eight hours of quiet time, a pizza in the oven, and a quart of Jaeger on ice.

Time to drop the hammer..