The End

I finished writing my novel on Monday, March 31, 2014. After fifteen months I finally typed the words THE END.

It was more anticlimactic than I could have imagined. No joy, no sense of accomplishment, no relief.

I actually didn’t write THE END at first. I simply wrote all I could think to write and when I was empty I went to bed.

Empty.

Unable to sleep, I thought getting up and writing THE END would settle something. Or stir something. But no.

Still empty.

Forty eight hours later, it’s my writing night and I don’t know what to do. Every word penned offends the paper. Poetry won’t flowetry. I was okay this morning but not now in this mourning. I had fallen out of love with the story, true, but now it’s gone and I’m lost in a wash of unanticipated grief.

Who will I be now?

I think I literally wrote my brains out.

There are no more words.

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15 thoughts on “The End”

  1. Good for you!!! Most people don’t even start, let alone finish. I think it must be like childbirth. I don’t remember feeling exhilarated. I just felt wiped out. The joy came later. I hope you will get a sense of joy and contentment. What you’ve done is a major accomplishment.

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  2. Well, you know, Picasso said something like this: Inspiration needs to find you working… if you’re inspired to mourn the ending of a long time companion (the novel), why don’t you write it’s eulogy?… what writing this novel meant to you, how it went from dream to joy to dependency to dislike or resentment… I have never written anything but I have undertaken long projects and I completely understand that ‘anticlimactic’ feeling when done (it kind of reminds me of other anticlimactic moments in my life, wink, wink). Sometimes making a dream come true is not all fireworks and exhiliration, it’s about one more achievement…I think part of the sadness, or at least for me, comes from the challenge of finding another something to create from zero that’ll connect with you making you commit to it till the end…and another part comes from that creation giving you meaning and purpose for as long as it lasted, on this my friend, if it resonates with you at least a bit, you have more meaning and purpose than writing, finishing is quite a task, plus you’ve got the rest of your life to inspire you into something new… although I am trying to cheer you up, I loved your phrase: “Every word penned offends the paper.” beautifully put!! I am an expert at offending the blank page, and I’ve got a classroom full of page offenders, we’re P.O.A. Page Offenders Anonymous… huge hug, y come decimos nosotros A OTRA COSA, MARIPOSA!! Alexandra

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    1. A eulogy! It’s a wonderful idea. You have hit the nail on the head — my sense of purpose is momentarily gone. I will find another big idea to work on. In the meantime, it’s good to know there are other “offenders” out there. Much love to you, and as a side note, I’m pretty sure I’m getting a message from the universe regarding butterflies, so your comment was very striking in that regard. Be on the lookout! I think it’ll be in (or part of) the next thing. =*)

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      1. Mame, I had to reread my comment to get this last part of your reply…don’t you just LOVE this ‘messages’, yay!!! will be on the lookout for the ‘next thing’, take your time my friend, savor it, enjoy it, make it your partner and alibi… because every good thing must come to an end to give way to the new… hugs, alexandra

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  3. Well done on finishing your first draft. That is a great achievement, and one many who aim to write a novel never attain. Now comes the editing, a process I find takes longer than the initial writing.

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    1. Ugh, editing. =P I’m not ready to edit yet. If i do it too soon, I tend to miss a lot of mistakes because I still know what I MEANT to say. Also, I think (hope!) a few months away will give me a fresh perspective on the story and what it needs.
      Many more miles to travel…

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