Le sigh – a.k.a. book aftermath

So, I finished the novel I was working on. The last three months blew by in a blur of frantic research and worry and pounding out word counts and now that it’s done I get to wake up for a while and be a real person who showers on a regular basis and changes her clothes once in a while. There was that moment of OMG I FINISHED IT! when I got through the first draft, and then again when I got through the revisions. There was a beautiful, sparkly moment where all the months of hard work culminated in something awesome and now I’m like, “Wow, did I really write THAT novel? But… I never thought I would, and can you imagine, ME, writing one of those?”

But after spending months thinking about how great it will be when the book is DONE, that’s D. O. N. E. FINISHED, I have to say it’s never all it’s cracked up to be. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be more thrilled about being DONE and having a book with a beginning, a middle, and an end to send to my agent and to have under my belt. And I am glad to have a break. But… Not having anything to work on is kind of unsatisfying. Reading, playing video games, watching shows guilt free, and even catching up on much needed chores is all fairly meaningless. Because if at the end of the day I’m getting ready for bed and have no word count, then how do I measure my worth? How do I know how satisfying the day was? There’s a certain fulfillment that comes with creating. I could miraculously burn through my entire TBR pile, and I’d still think, “But what did I DO today?”

It’s a purposeless existence, being in between books. It’s like being a knight with no dragons to slay. But it’s also good to take a break, and another book could strike at any moment, so I’d better get everything else done while I can.

One Comment
  1. Sab H.

    YAY! Squeee congrats! :D

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