Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I wrote “The End.” Then I sat there, slightly stupefied, wondering what to do next.
Is it really the novel’s end? Only the three Rs—re-reading, rewriting, revising—will tell me.
It feels good as a novel at this point. I think I found the story and followed it where it needed to go, shaping plot and character along the way. Like so many writers, I’m left with a quiet sense of wonder: nearly five hundred pages spent exploring another life, another existence. There’s sadness, too. I enjoyed my characters. Writing “The End” makes me miss them already.
A million other ideas are queued up, hungry. But first, I’ll take a day and let the novel—and myself—breathe. Then I’ll open it again, turn to page one, and begin the three Rs.
I was in the coffee shop, writing the current novel in progress. In fact, I was writing the newest ending to it. This one was not an ending which I’d envisioned, although it was a path that veered from that planned ending.
As I typed, one of my coffee-shop writing friends came by. “I can see you’re deep into it,” she said. “You have the writer face going.”
She and I laughed and she went on. In truth, I was ready for a break because writing butt was settling in. One cheek felt numb and the other was sore.
But you probably know how it is. There was more to write. Hungry, thirsty, pressed for time, I kept going, writing like crazy till I finally took a breath, sat back, and said, “Done.”
We’ll see if I’m done, of course. If the novel is done. Finished.
We’ll see.
Haven’t done anything today but read and write. My sense of an ending wasn’t working for me. I had some vague directional ideas but decided to delve back into the manuscript to refresh myself and let my Muse Neurons do their thing. Four hours later, with some bio breaks, I’d read several hundred pages, surprising myself with what I’d written. Work needed, sure. Nothing major spoke up, though.
And then, like that, I saw the full ending land a foothold. Saw how what I wrote as the ending was the beginning of the end but that there are more pages to be written to complete the story. Epiphanies upon epiphanies fell across my mind with dizzying speed and completeness. Just need to remember them. Write them. Hang on for the rest of the ride.
Michael Seidel, writer 