I finished “Chapter 40: Ice Heavy Branches,” and it is seventeen pages long. Thus I have placed the main character in Aspen, Colorado, the longed-for destination throughout much of the book. It is exciting to know that I only have one chapter remaining (plus the Author’s Note). This chapter will be constructed of mostly conversations; the action scenes dealing with the zombies are over (people ask me what my book is about; at first I used to tell them, “Zombies!” but in reality, the overriding theme of the book is the nature of hope amidst a world that seems so hopeless; zombies just crop up every once in a while). Sitting in the coffee shop Thursday (or Wednesday?) night, I wrote:
Finishing a book is always a difficult thing for me. Perhaps it is the conviction that the ending must be perfect; if it does not end right, everything proceeding it is declared bankrupt. Or, perhaps, it is the knowledge that when it is finished, it is finished. No longer shall I nurture and cherish it and grow it; no longer shall I have the joy of watching it evolve and take shape into something marvelous and yet simple. Finishing a book is like giving birth and performing an execution, and when all is said and done, I feel empty and happy and sad all at the same time.
Finishing a book is always a difficult thing for me. Perhaps it is the conviction that the ending must be perfect; if it does not end right, everything proceeding it is declared bankrupt. Or, perhaps, it is the knowledge that when it is finished, it is finished. No longer shall I nurture and cherish it and grow it; no longer shall I have the joy of watching it evolve and take shape into something marvelous and yet simple. Finishing a book is like giving birth and performing an execution, and when all is said and done, I feel empty and happy and sad all at the same time.
No comments:
Post a Comment