I finished yet another manuscript today. Book number, umm, I dunno. Do you count books in which your story is but one of several? Whatever, even when I type THE END on a novella, there are a boatload of emotions that whack me upside the head . . .
What it Feels Like to Type THE END
What if the story is a pile of literary manure? What if you get laughed off the face of the earth? Or booed? It's frightening to think of sending off a manuscript because you know it's not perfect. It will never be perfect. And therein comes the fear.
I'm told that there's a certain high achieved when you run. Something about endorphins or maybe dolphins. Not sure. I've never experienced this because personally I'd rather stab my thighs with forks than feel the burn of a long run. Nevertheless, I'll give the benefit of the doubt to those who say running is exhilarating. So is typing THE END. Way less sweaty, though.
There are moments during the writing of a book when you wonder if it's worth it. All the angst over plot and characters and what the heck to make for dinner besides frozen pizza. But then the day comes when you finally finish the dang thing and, yes, indeedy, it was all worth it. You feel like a champion.
Sticking with a project until it's completely done spurs you on to do yet another project. The success of one manuscript makes you realize you can do another. This is a temporary feeling though. By the time you're mid-way through another book, that energy is gone.
Lot's of people say they're going to write a novel, but never do. If you've ever typed THE END, here is a cyber high-five from me to you. And if you haven't finished writing a book, what are you waiting for? These emotions can be yours as well.
I hear voices. Loud. Incessant. And very real. Which basically gives me
two options: choke back massive amounts of Prozac or write fiction. I chose the
latter. Way cheaper. I've been writing since I discovered blank wall space and
Crayolas. I seek to glorify God in all that I write...except for that graffiti
phase I went through as a teenager. Oops. Did I say that out loud?