A (brief) moment of self-pity and doubt

I just finished the re-write for a big chunk of my book. 19 pages, or 11,500 words. It seems like a big chunk to me, but I'm sure there are writers who get through much, much more in a day.

I suppose I'm guilty of having the same insecurities that plague most writers. (FYI, when I say 'most', I'm generalizing. Writer's Digest hasn't put out the official stats for these kind of figures.) I don't really worry about whether or not my story's good enough. I think it is good, otherwise why would I write it?

No, what I really worry about is if the story is interesting. It's one thing to say that most stories follow the same trajectory if you really break them down to their bare bare bones. It's another thing to write the story that fleshes out the skeleton. There's good fantasy and lots of bad fantasy. There's familiar but new, and then there's predictable. There's also being different just for the sake of being different. That 's probably just as bad a being boring and predictable.

*Sigh* Now I'm tempted to delete all this self-pity. Really and truly, I can't wait until my re-write is done. This is the third and last one, unless a publisher picks it up. If so, then it must have some value, and I'll be more than happy to do the editor-recommended reviews.

I'll stop here and not put the cart before the horse. Finish the re-write first. Thanks for reading. Sorry for ranting.