The End
Word Count: 110,470
Well, that's it. I finished. The story and all.
And I don't feel happy, not at all. In fact, I kind of feel like crying. It's over too soon, too fast. I didn't even get a chance to say good bye! I don't want to give out spoilers for future readers, but I might change the ending in the rewrite anyway, so let's just say that there are very, very few survivors. Out of all those characters I spent less than a month fleshing out and getting to know, all those characters I talked to and explored, most of them are gone. Forever. And I'm not sure I like them, away, like that.
The ending feels so empty...more suited for a short story, then a novel. And to think, just earlier today, I was happy that my characters finally decided to take action and do what they want to do! I wish I didn't let them do that...or perhaps I would have more words to go, more time to spent the next week. But I suppose, it's all over. I wrote the end. There's no sequel. No more.
I'm not sure if it's healthy to feel this sad after finishing a novel, but I suppose I'll feel better tomorrow...either that, or expect a crazed post informing you I've deleted the last twenty pages and plan on creating a new, happy ending!
...but most likely not.
I really had wanted a happy ending, though. I wanted something out of this, and what does my characters give me? Death, that's what. And a lame lesson that fail to make sense. Perhaps, January, the rewrite will make it all better...yes, I have hope. I have faith.
Because, it's been a long, interesting journey, and I've arrived, safely, on the other end. And although those plot points I wanted, those mysterious characters I never revealed much about exposed themselves a little too much, I got them through it. I got myself through it.
And I think I'll congratulate myself, somehow. And anyway, this is good! Now I can proudly slap the label of "tortured artist" and walk around whining about how sad I am that my novel is finished.
Thanks, everyone.
Happy Thanksgiving. And good night.
Well, that's it. I finished. The story and all.
And I don't feel happy, not at all. In fact, I kind of feel like crying. It's over too soon, too fast. I didn't even get a chance to say good bye! I don't want to give out spoilers for future readers, but I might change the ending in the rewrite anyway, so let's just say that there are very, very few survivors. Out of all those characters I spent less than a month fleshing out and getting to know, all those characters I talked to and explored, most of them are gone. Forever. And I'm not sure I like them, away, like that.
The ending feels so empty...more suited for a short story, then a novel. And to think, just earlier today, I was happy that my characters finally decided to take action and do what they want to do! I wish I didn't let them do that...or perhaps I would have more words to go, more time to spent the next week. But I suppose, it's all over. I wrote the end. There's no sequel. No more.
I'm not sure if it's healthy to feel this sad after finishing a novel, but I suppose I'll feel better tomorrow...either that, or expect a crazed post informing you I've deleted the last twenty pages and plan on creating a new, happy ending!
...but most likely not.
I really had wanted a happy ending, though. I wanted something out of this, and what does my characters give me? Death, that's what. And a lame lesson that fail to make sense. Perhaps, January, the rewrite will make it all better...yes, I have hope. I have faith.
Because, it's been a long, interesting journey, and I've arrived, safely, on the other end. And although those plot points I wanted, those mysterious characters I never revealed much about exposed themselves a little too much, I got them through it. I got myself through it.
And I think I'll congratulate myself, somehow. And anyway, this is good! Now I can proudly slap the label of "tortured artist" and walk around whining about how sad I am that my novel is finished.
Thanks, everyone.
Happy Thanksgiving. And good night.
posted by Laura at 9:18 PM
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