I went into a Staples recently, spent about five seconds in one aisle, then walked out empty handed. I had one of those paranoid moments when I was afraid the staff would think I stole something. But that's a different kind of insecurity, I suppose. The kind of insecurity I was really feeling at the moment was a sort of desperate need for perfection. Or maybe I was just being really picky.
Ok, ok, I'll explain. I was looking for a binder. But not just any binder. I need a binder in which to put the second draft of my novel. I haven't printed any of my revisions yet, and I like having a hard copy as well as a digital one. But this is my life's work, my masterpiece--it can't just go anywhere!
I've mentioned before that my novel has colors. You know, like a sports team or a school would. My high school's colors were black and teal, college was purple and gold. Well, my book is gray and blue. I don't know when it happened, exactly. I just started associating each color with one of my main characters, and then I started wearing these colors together a lot, and it just kind of stuck. I could go into extensive details about why I chose these particular colors, but that's probably a story for another day.
I have my first draft printed and stored in a gray binder. It took me forever to find the perfect one, and had to buy it online, actually. See, I knew that it just had to be gray, that putting my book in some random colored binder would be a violation to myself, my muse, and the universe. It just wouldn't have felt right. And so for my second draft, of course it has to be blue. But the right kind of blue. One that I haven't been able to find yet.
Ok, this is about more than just a binder, really. It's not even about seeking perfection like you would when you actually write your book. It's more about balance. I do believe that everything happens for a reason and that the universe has a plan for everyone. Oddly enough, I'm pretty sure I've figured most of that plan out. I may be right or I may be completely nuts, only time will tell. But in the meantime, I have to do what feels right. If I stuck my second draft in a pink binder, it would make me cringe every time I picked it up. Does that make me insecure? Probably.
Anyone else picky about where you store your hard copies? Figure out the universe's plan for you yet? Or do you think I'm crazy?