Harder to Breathe

My brain is nearly worthless. So I'm sorry if we're having a conversation and I go slack jawed and stare off into space.  It's because I'm so deep inside book 2, it takes a monumental effort to rejoin real life and become a functioning piece of society again.

Sometimes I'm going over a chapter and I think to myself, "Brilliant! Amazing! So much angst and tension! You're the best, Heiders!" (Yes, I call myself, Heiders in my head and only occasionally out loud.) 

But then I get to the next paragraph and I say, "No. I'm the worst. This is shit. Pure feces. You're not a writer, Heidi Rae. You're just bad." (I call myself by my middle name when I'm disappointed in myself, ask my co-workers.)

It's torturous. Feel bad for my betas and my editors. They have to put up with so much more than you ever will know about. >insert threat about the burn pile here>

But truly, In Your Honor is the greatest thing I have ever written. Though if you look up to the third paragraph you realize that's not very good.  I still want to share it with you.  And I want you to tell me if you hate it. And how much you hate it. And if it ended up in your burn pile. But what if it's the greatest thing ever?! But it won't be. Because I wrote it.