On Friday night, I typed words that are magic to every author: The End.
They are glorious words, because they mean that an author has reached the end of a journey.
Characters that I first began to imagine two, almost thr ee years ago have been fully developed and have lived their lives on the screen of my mind. I have taken faithful dictation and tried to capture their adventures on the page. I have emailed the crazy long document to my editor, and now I wait, I pause before I receive the macro edits from her next month.
And here’s where I, the neurotic writer, have a problem.
My type A personality leaps to the forefront because literally ten minutes after hitting send, characters began screaming at me that it was time for their story to come to light.
You see, I am TERRIBLE at celebrating the end. This book was, I believe, manuscript 23 that I’ve turned into a publisher. And I’m still an abysmal failure and novice at taking a moment to breath and celebrate. Instead, I’m ready to launch into the very next adventure with barely a pause.
I’m pretty sure that’s not healthy. I’m sure there is someone out there thinking “this girl needs help.”
The ironic thing is I am a big believer in the need to look back and celebrate what God has done in our lives. I fully believe our faith needs those pauses and moments of celebration. That moment where I pause and thank God for carrying me through another book.
About book 8 and 9, I thought I’d take the kids out to a movie every time I finish a book. I’m more of a Redbox girl myself. So this time I bought the new Star Wars movie and watched it with my husband and older kids. Does that count?
This time I purposely scheduled a spa day for Saturday morning. Now before you think that’s awesome (which it was), I used a gift card I received last Mother’s Day. It’s almost this Mother’s Day, folks! But I knew I really needed a pause this time. Something to look forward to because this book really kicked my behind. And that facial was sooo relaxing. And I’m still admiring my painted nails and toes. I just don’t take the time for me, so it was awesome.
I also went to dinner with friends. The invitation was perfectly timed because one of the things I had to cut this go-around was making time to spend with friends. I was just stretched too thin. So an evening with friends and good food was ideal.
If you’re a writer, how do you celebrate the end? And for the readers, how would you tell a writer to celebrate?