Oh, man. The end of a book is tough. This is when I doubt myself the most.
I’m tired. My eyes are tired. (That’s me, yawning and rubbing my eyes to prove it.) My derrière is tired. My neck is tense. My brain is strained.
This is a novel that has been written with constant interruptions (before, during, and after my move), so I feel fractured. I hope the story isn’t fractured, too. It’s due on my editor’s desk (or rather, via email, on her computer) by Tuesday morning. Not a lot of time for that final spit and polish I like to do.
I haven’t written "The End" yet but I’m getting close. I am currently going through the manuscript and adding a couple more POVs that I realized yesterday were really needed. That’s helping my word count as well. I’m on the short side. I have friends who write long and have to cut. That has never been my problem. Never. I’m pithy.
Okay, yawning over. Back to those new POV scenes.
-rlh-
