Thanks, Woody Allen.
Yesterday I showed up!
I swallowed all those ridiculous but deeply-felt thoughts and cleverly constructed justifications that were preventing me from starting my rewrite.
Completely crazy. I approached it with the same gut-churning fear that might accompany...
a bungee jump. (Only she doesn't look nearly fearful enough.)
swimming in shark-infested waters.
And all I had to do was open up two files on my computer - the first draft of the novel and the notes from the literary consultant - read the latter again and...start the re-write!
Sometimes I feel incredibly pathetic.
Postscript: I enjoyed it A LOT about three minutes after I'd started and then carried on for the rest of the day.