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!
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