It is my least favorite moment of publishing. I hate it. I always feel like I'm not doing enough at this stage, although in all truth, no one wants you to be making any big changes at this point. There are rules. Percentages. Consequences. Still . . . to just go through and fix typos and continuity errors (and that is seriously all I do at this point) seems like not enough. I should be polishing and honing more.
I can't stand to even think about it at this point, though. At this point in the process, I have read the damn thing so many times I can not stand it anymore. The idea is stupid. The execution is clumsy. The dialogue is wooden and the setting is bland. There is no fixing it. It should simply be thrown out and forgotten about.
In all fairness, in a year (maybe less), I'll pick it up for some reason or another, flip it open and something in it will make me chuckle. Or get misty-eyed. Or pat myself on the back for some reason or another.
Not now, though. Right now I hate it. At least it's off my desk.