The new me seems to have acquired a deadline.

I have recently discovered that coming to the end of writing the end of your WIP is a fascinating experience, although in some respects, quite sad too.

This is a new feeling for me and surprising, for I am writing my sixth book!

All I remember about finishing those was an immense feeling of relief. I wonder why I feel differently about this one?

But I digress…

Creating a satisfying ending for all the characters you have come to love (or not!) involves some serious decisions. Will they walk into the sunset, happy and fulfilled, or will they face a difficult ending, one they didn’t see coming?

As a writer, you end up being judge and jury as you decide their fate. I love being in charge, all the creation, the character development, the sadness and the joy.

Each story I write will be totally different to anything I have done before, even if the genre is the same.

Different people’s lives and situations, all living and breathing and all under your control.

Being a writer must be the best job in the world!

All this productivity is having a knock-on effect on everything, and although I welcome all this mental activity, I am having trouble understanding why I end up with so many more plans than those I started with. Usually, having nothing to do with what I am doing at the time. So much for not having so many irons in the fire!

Finishing one job lands me among all those ghosts of other projects I either made a mess of or have completely forgotten about.

My mind does try, bless it, to think along dual idea lines, and I have had serious talks with the muse, to stop cramming my head with so many ideas, to at least wait until I finish one!