I’ve written about finishing novels previously, most notably here and here.
But, as I’m entering the final few chapters of the first revision of Johnny’s Girls—which will, hopefully, be only the first of only two revision passes through the novel—I am, once again, facing utter heartbreak. And I wanted to drop a quick post about it.
On one hand, the novel itself is breaking my heart. Curiously, not by how bad it is, but how bad I feel for two side characters who have really been hurt throughout the novel. If I’m feeling for them, I guess I did something right, right? (At least by my own, relatively low standards.) Hurts no less.
On the other hand, finishing this revision means that I’m one step closer to publishing the novel, and that’s scary (it’ll only be my second!), and, well, it makes me not want to rush to the ending anytime soon. But I’ll be done this very week. And I’m heartbroken all over again. Because I chose this writing thing. But publishing is new. And I don’t really want to have one without the other. So I’ve basically rid myself of choice by making one in the past. Or, to put it more truthfully—I’ve chosen the hard way.
And, on the third hand—let’s call it a tail, shall we?—by finishing the first revision of Johnny’s Girls, I’ll be robbing myself of the pleasure I’ve had writing this thing, and even—gasp!—editing it. I thought this dread wouldn’t be adding to my general feeling of heartbreak this time, because I have four more novels scheduled to (try to) write in the second part of this year, and one’s a sequel to this piece, and the other three I’ve been seriously looking forward and dreaming about in the past month, but… nope. Still heartbroken. As if writing ceases to be an option, for me, once I finish Johnny’s Girls.
(Which it doesn’t. It never ever does.)
Okay, so that’s it. That’s the post. I’m really looking forward to seeing whether I still feel like this five books in.
I honestly cannot tell right now, either way.
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Photo by Siora Photography on Unsplash.
Vesna Kurilic 