Finish your masterpiece. It’s perfect in every detail. You wouldn’t change a thing. Except maybe the kangaroo paragraph. Realise the whole thing rests on the kangaroo paragraph. If the kangaroo paragraph is wrong, is the whole thing wrong?
Remind yourself that you’ve already edited it ten times. It’s as good as it’s going to be. You’ll send it off tomorrow.
Go to bed. Fail to sleep.
Get up and turn on your computer. Pace while you consider an alternative to the kangaroo paragraph. Tread on a cold pile of mouse guts. Suddenly you can’t face editing anything, apart from the cat.
Return to bed, having washed your feet.
Feel bad about evil cat thoughts.
Fail to sleep.
Return to your computer. The cat is asleep on the keys. The cat has rewritten your kangaroo paragraph for you, as well as the beginning, middle and end of your entire book.
Fresh evil cat thoughts.
Cry. Make toast. Eat toast.
Consider how best to rewrite wese;lisgyt?<* Have a thunderous epiphany about the entire plot. Realise you didn’t need the kangaroo after all. Realise how much bigger and better the whole thing is going to be now that you understand this.
Finish your masterpiece. It’s perfect in every detail. You wouldn’t change a thing…