Crossing the pit

Yesterday, as previously mentioned, I had a deep read of my editorial letter and my assorted scribblings to myself and based on calls with my editor, with the goal of beginning an edit plan. As predicted I did fall into the pit of despair labelled MY BOOK WASN'T PERFECT THE FIRST TIME AND THEREFORE I AM AN UNFIXABLY TERRIBLE AUTHOR.

But! said pit was only a few hundred kilometers across, and since I was on a train I was able to pass through it in 90 minutes. After that I was able to really begin an edit plan, starting one for the opening (which is the only major structural piece) and actually finishing one for the ALL IS LOST beat toward the end of Act Two. This is big!

Maybe I should always cross the pit on a train?