My revision is done. I gave the book to two writing friends to read. I actually have free time for a change. So why do I feel so lost?
I've spent almost every evening and weekend for the past several months on this book. Even when I wasn't writing or revising, the plot and the characters weren't far from my mind. I pretty much lived and breathed this story and I loved every minute of it. Depending on what my readers have to say about it, it'll soon be time to pack it up and send it off to my agent.
I've heard writers compare their books to having a baby. I think it's harder than that. Childbirth was a piece of cake compared to writing a book. To me it's more like raising a child and sending him off to college. Childbirth is the beginning of a relationship with a brand new little person, just like beginning a book.
You love and nurture the child as he grows. Sometimes things don't go exactly the way you planned. Sometimes they go great. A writer nurtures the plot and characters in much the same way. Just as in real life, there are twists and turns along the way. Sometimes your characters have tantrums just like your two year old. Then you hit those tumultuous teenage years and life becomes a roller coaster ride just like the third act of your story. Then finally--graduation. You sigh. You're so proud! This is your baby!
Then comes the day you have to pack him up and say goodbye.
Although it's definitely not as intense as dropping my son off at college for the first time, I hate to say goodbye to this story. When I wrote the first book, I was glad it was over. I was sick of it. Not this one.
So, that's where I am. As much as I hate to see it end, I'm looking forward to writing the next one. There's some consolation in the fact that I'm writing a series, so I still get to hang out with old friends. I've got plot ideas starting to form in the back of my brain and characters coming to life. This could be fun!
But I have to say, I'd like to skip the terrible twos in the next book.