I’ve spent two days numb. It’s like that sometimes. You finish the book, the brain shuts down, you haven’t a word left in you for any purpose. I managed to wring out three final words a couple minutes after I typed the last word of Hawkspar, in order to post here that I’d finished, but that was it. The well went baked-bone dry, and I slogged off not so much to celebrate as to recover.
I’m starting to shake it off. I woke up this morning realizing I’d left a few threads untied. First time I’d been able to think about the book since I typed the last words. I went into the office, I looked at the manuscript — the brain said, “Uh-uh. Not today.” So I wrote down my little list: seven loose threads, some that can be fixed with a line or two, one that will require its own new scene, right at the end, because the knife must be twisted all the way round if you have the room to do it. I do. I’ll go in tomorrow, crack of dawn, and I’ll face the list. It’s okay — it isn’t overwhelming, but each item is important, and I want to do the thing right. I want the first time my editor reads it to be as good as I can possibly make it.
I’ve read your congrats, and I deeply appreciate every one of them. I think the more I learn about writing, the more I know I don’t know, and the harder it is to wrap a project confident that I did it right. However, I’m figuring by tomorrow I’ll be functional again, I’ll do my seven little tasks on Hawkspar, and then I’ll move on to Claire’s book, and get back into that. It’ll be easier only having the one novel to work on.
The world is like that when you drop everything and go intensely, whole hog, to FINISH something. Just that accomplishment — finishing anything — puts you in the top 10% of all people everywhere. Doing it right — knowing you’ve done it right, that nobody could have done what you did and in the way you did it — is the icing on the cake.
Enjoy your rest, because you need it. Then take care of your seven little strings.
Then repeat for ICU, which will hopefully flow smoothly now.
Then sit back and suck another $30 out of me and make me enjoy the bloodletting. I dare you. 🙂
You’re an inspiration with how hard you work on all your stories. Thanks for sharing it all.
Here’s my encouragement:
I thoroughly enjoyed Talyn and convinced several folks to pick it up as their next books. Course, they’ll have to buy their own copies. (Mine is not for borrowing.)
I totally agree with Bridget – I respect the hell out of the fact that you give it your all, every time. Your drive and your strength impress me and make me green with envy.
I think that’s part of what so many people love about your writing — you do a story right, come hell or high water. I for one appreciate and respect the hell out of it, from both a reading and writing perspective. And I have faith in you, as I know many, many others do too. =)