Dithering on the brink
Or maybe suffering from ingrowing procrastination.
Okay, I was reading some piece a few weeks ago about new editors coming to academic presses and finding that there are commissioned works that have vastly - not merely by years but by decades - overrun the original delivery date.
And I will concede that I have probably been very fortunate in that, for nearly all of my academic publishings, I was solicited, or interest was expressed, I have really done relatively little sending the stuff out completely cold to publishers/journal editors.
Okay, the biography got touted around publishers. And there was trying to find a suitable home for large Euro-edited-volume thing. And That Article that a certain journal sat on for a year because all the editorial collective had to read it.
But, anyway, there were deadlines, and contracts, and so on.
Whereas here have I been doing editing, and polishing, and polishing, and polishing, and - yeah, there comes a point where it is entire nitpickery.
And not moving the whole thing on to the next stage.
This is possible a prolonged attack of the 'walking up and down wringing hands' thing, except that that usually comes before there are any words on the page instead of really rather a lot of them.
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