Born in the wrong century

I am quite the perfectionist. I edit my stories more than I probably should. Well, no more!
What's the worst that can happen?
Die because I made a spelling error? A wrong choice in punctuation? Too shallow in character? Too dry in plot? Too wordy? Too much dialogue? Not enough action? Augh!!!!! I think that maybe all this research about how to write a good children's story is sometimes my stumbling block. I've made a perfectionist speed bump for me to hit every time. This speed bump has a name, of course.
"Me."
Did I believe myself for a second? Well, I guess I did even though I did get up and give Rory water (and tell her I love her more than Daddy does--he's been telling her all night that I want to make her into glue! He should talk; I'm the vegetarian in the family! How do we really know that hamburger meat is made out of cow and not dog??)

I just think I was born in the wrong time period.
I live in a day of bloggers, of people who have too much to say about everything and sometimes it clutters my mind, thinking about how many readers there are versus writers. I believe it's probably 1 to 5, readers being in the minority.
Granted, I'm writing for children...but just as my research has shown me, I'm not, really.
I'm writing for the editor who reads my manuscript.
I'm writing for the publisher who wants to see the bottom line.
I'm writing for the research group who wants to see a new fiction artist.
And ultimately, I hope to write for the child.
Hopefully, I didn't lose that part of my talent while I got all wrapped up in research.

I hear a clock ticking in the background. It's an imaginary clock but I hear it nevertheless.


Did I mention that when I'm nervous I get nauseous? Butterflies with elephant feet flip in my stomach!