But first, a breather.
We had an interesting run, my novel and I. There were days when I loved it to pieces. There were days when I hated every word that came out from under my pen. There were moments when I had no idea how I was going to write myself and my characters out of the messes we had collectively gotten ourselves into, and even worse moments, when I doubted I could get everyone home safely. There were days when I was scared of it, literally hiding under the blanket and running away to other people’s stories so I didn’t have to think about mine for a while.
The beginning was the most exciting. The middle was the toughest. The ending was the scariest. And then it was done.
A little later I’ll probably pretend to be an experienced author and make a post with a list of things I learned while writing the novel, shamelessly copycatting Chuck Wendig of Terrible Minds, whose lists of most-frequently-25 things I’ve become addicted to. For now, I’ll stay with the emotional response. It took me two days just to become coherent about it in the first place.
This has been exhilarating, terrifying, ecstatic, painful, educational as hell, and the biggest thing I’ve so far done in my life. To everyone who was with me along the way – you know who you are and how important you are. To all my characters – you know we’ve got places to go, and things will only get more exciting. To anyone who may be interested in the finished product – WATCH THIS SPOT.