Wasn’t that the bell?

Kind of like this boy. Although I wasn't a boy. I'm still not a boy.

Normally I loved school. But one day I sat in my fifth grade classroom with my mind a million miles away, thoroughly unable to concentrate. Maybe I had spring fever. Or ants in my pants. Or just sick-of-school-itis. Whatever it was, I didn't think I could stay in my seat for another second, and that's when the bell finally rang.

Ahh. I had made it! I ran to the coat racks, yanked my backpack off the hook, and nearly ran outside. (Except I didn't run because running is against the rules!) On the way out, my friend Amber said, “Hey, do you want to play a game of four square?”

I thought two things. First, No way! I am so done with this day! I’m outta here! Second, How is she going to have time to play? She rides the bus home! I muttered a “No, thanks,” and headed to the nearest door outside, which was also the door to the playground.

What I saw when I pushed the door open baffled me. I stood and stared as not only my class, but the entire fifth and sixth grade was playing! Why weren’t they going home?! Was there some kind of planned after school event that I had somehow missed hearing about? Was it just THAT nice of a day that everyone felt like they just HAD to stay and play longer?
 

It took a minute to realize that the bell I thought meant school was out was really just the bell to go to recess. I thought I’d finally finished, but I STILL HAD MORE SCHOOL DAY AHEAD OF ME. As I stood there holding my backpack, ready to bolt for the exit, I wasn’t sure I could handle walking back into school when recess was over.

Tell me you've done that before. Us confused recess kids have to stick together! What? Some of you haven't had to explain why you took your backpack out to recess? Oh. Did you do like I did and just hid your backpack in an alcove and waited until school was actually over to retrieve it? Good thinking.

I thought I was done with my last book. Completely ready to query and send off to any agent who asked for it. I mean I had gone through nine full revisions! It had been beta read by so many great people! I felt like it really rocked! Then a few things happened at nearly the same time, involving a really tough critique, several “how did I not realize that before!” suggestions, and me finally figuring out how to incorporate those first few chapter descriptions more effectively.

I realized that for my book the bell hadn’t rung to go home! I still had work to do! My book was really good.... but it wasn’t great yet. And if I want the absolute best chances of getting published, I have to go for great, even if it means heading back in again.

Heading back into school in fifth grade didn’t exactly KILL me, even if I thought it might. I mean I actually made it through the rest of the day unscathed! I know. It surprised me, too. So I guess if that didn't kill me, then this won't, either.

So what do you do when you need to talk yourself into facing work you thought was already done?
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