And the AUTHOR explodes

So I'm sure you noticed how my last post was all happy light and cheerful.
This one will not be.
Just to warn you.
I know, I know, I have mood swings, but hey, I'm a girl and girls have a nasty tendency to be this way. Happy one moment, stark raving bonkers the next.
My editor is done, and although I claimed that I was prepared for what was coming next, I wasn't, and who ever is? I got the editing letter yesterday and I could feel my heart sinking with every line I read.
Look at all those things you did wrong, a snarky little voice whispered in my head, all those things. Do you ever think you could do this? What delusion made you think that YOU could write and published a book?
I agreed.
I figured that fire and brimstone would freeze over before I got a book published.
I tossed my binders into the trashcan and wished that writing had never been invented, that we all communicated with troll grunts and gestures.
I gave up.
Thankfully my parents who know a lot more than I did intervened. Granted I wasn't overly talkative last night, but my mom got me through it, so did popcorn and chocolate. I'm proud to say that last night I ate an entire bag of popcorn mostly by myself (my dad took a few handfuls, I feel less bad because of that :D) and considering I live in a house of popcorn vultures, that is an impressive feat!
I'm still pretty shaken, who LIKES to be told that their three years of hard work and sweat amounts to something that is still beginnerish and looks as though it's a first draft (5th!) but I'm not going to quit, I just need to find my thick skin.
I also learned that basic YA books only have about 50,000 to 70,000 words. My book has 107,000ish words. For those of you who didn't do the NANOWRIMO (try it this year, it's fun to make your brain explode as you try to cramp as much writing as possible in before the last of November fades away!) 70,000 words is only about 300 pages and Twisted packs out an impressive 474 pages worth of stuff. I felt heat rising in my chest as I realized this, I'd cut out at least half of my book if I chopped it back down to 300 pages. So many chapters, so many hints and clues just gone.
YA readers, I figured, were pansies. (Whoa! don't get offended! That was in the moment, we all think really offensive and rude things in the moment, if you don't, you are a much better person than me!)
And character ages 14-19, what? Are you kidding? Aster is 23! (Allie and Prince Maffio, two other main characters however fall under this category, Allie is 16, Maffio is 19) The Secret Keeper definitely goes over that age limit, he's no spring chicken!
Good thing I don't have like the Witch-king or something (Yeah LOTR reference, you knew it was coming) he's over 3000 years old! But his POV would be really interesting (the Halfling stares up at me with horror, his fear is delicious to me and my fellow Nazgul. I reach forward to snatch the ring from the Halfling's opposing fingers...)
YA genre, is apparently not for me. My target audience is everyone. Maybe I'll write some YA (this stands for Young Adult BTW) later on, but for now, I meant what I meant, and I said what I said, don't make me change it or you'll blow up my head.
Yeah, on top of being an author, I'm also a poet.
Hopefully I'll be able to handle it when I get the full manuscript back. I just feel so stupid seeing all the beginner story-teller mistakes I made. A little angry too, I've been writing since I was like 12 and I'm still considered a beginner? When will I STOP being a beginner!?
Yes, I am apparently a beginner-quality author, but I am a gold medal winner in whining. :)

Two songs relatively describing how I feel, top one with the wraith (okay, I KNOW it's the Grim Reaper, but if one wants to get technical, the Grim Reaper IS a wraith, so there) the music (if this is the right vid) is Endless Love from Myth. I have no idea what movie that is, I just like the music, (and the picture)

This one is really how I feel. I Give Up, by Elijah Bossenbroek.