Endings and beginnings

So it's over. At 5:12 tonight, I typed the words 'LE END' and sat back and took a breath.

I did it. It's all done. My little babies have had their story told to the world, or rather, to me, and I have faithfully documented it for them.

It would be lying if I said I didn't cry at any point in writing this. I cried near the end. Not at the end. Because why cry now? I'm so not done. There's so much to do still! I have sworn to myself that I will not cry until I have the published copy in my hands, and I'm looking at the cover with my name and my title and it's my book. Then I can sob like an infant. Probably over typos.

And then, obviously, when I'm famous I'll sell the tear-stained atrocity for big bucks on Ebay.

But anyway, YES! I did it and I wrote a book! I feel so strong.

N

Never mind that this is what I feel like the whole thing looks like.

Harsh, you say? Certainly it can't be that bad! A cat eating a plate of spaghetti? It's a mess, it's so bad it's fascinating, it's almost modern art.

Maybe if I call it performance art I won't have to edit it.

And now I'm in a lurch. Obviously step 2 here is to edit the thing. But how? Slice and dice? Or meticulously re-read, re-format and dissect out the unnecessary? Inject in what it lacks?   I don't know - I've never done this before! Any authors reading this, please, don't hesitate to share your opinions. I'm kind of at a loss.

I'm also confused about what to do during class time now. Classes have always been my designated writing time (I'm such an incredible student, good Lord) - now what do I do? Pay attention? Blow that!

So I'll probably just write a sequel. I'm thinking I'll be ready by next Monday to pick up work on something else, unless my exams next week are stressing me out too much. Then I might just study.

Either way, the sequel is happening. I love Bea. She gave me fits when I started writing; I couldn't get my head around the character, I couldn't judge her reactions, I couldn't think from her point of view. She was a tough cookie to crack. But now that she has, well, she's kind of special.

Also the zombie. I do love him. He's just so damn adorable. If they ever make a movie, he'll be played by Michael Cera in heavy makeup.

Anyway, I'll conclude with a quote from an old, old story. A fanfiction, actually, that I wrote for Terry Pratchett's Discworld a few years ago. It's not profound or even directly related to what I just finished, but I think it accurately summarizes what I'm facing when I talk about editing over here.

"Wait, are you Lord Vetinari? The ghost of Lord Vetinari? Why are you in my house?"

"It's an unnecessarily long and convoluted story. Most of it's flowery language to fluff up the word count. Now give me your laptop."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's mine."

"That's an appalling reason for anything."