Life After the Novel is Finished

Uncharacteristic Behavior is finished. I've been over it for the thousandth time, pruned, tidied and dusted, and have now relegated it to the back of my mind for most of the time. It won't be completely cloistered off until I start a new book, of course. But it has stopped talking to me as I do other things, and the dropping-off-to-sleep whispers (I always need a pen and notebook beside the bed) have gone.

This is a no-man's land for the writer, this time immediately after completing a book. There is the sadness at saying goodbye to characters you've come to love or hate, and a sense of relief that you managed to make sense of it all. I wander rather aimlessly around the house, try to catch up on my reading (which slowed considerably during the writing), spend more time in the garden. I clean things thoroughly that have only seen a duster lately. I sew, which is pleasurable to me. I do useless but interesting research on the computer. (The little lizards in the garden, called Skinks, love to eat strawberries. Who would have thought? The Northern Territory in Australia was once considered as a Jewish Homeland site, before Israel. It's a dreadfully harsh state, and was nick-named the 'Unpromised Land'. And so on...)

I'm back to everyday life. Ho Hum, and what's for dinner?

When I'm not actively writing -- in my head, or at the computer -- I'm terribly listless.  No one expects a writer to finish one book and immediately jump into the next. But I want to. It hits me the minute I step out of bed.. What are you going to write this time? And if you finish it, do you realize you'll have five manuscripts waiting for publication?

But I have a loose plot, and I'll undoubtedly go with it. Right now it's a nub of an idea, captured on a 3x3 Post-It.  I have done one bit of a research. Did you know that you can buy a derelict stone cottage in the U.K. for under Fifty Thousand Pounds...around $75,000? This will often include acreage. And Ireland is the cheapest?  (Not that I'm thinking of buying one, although the fantasy has presented itself to me several times over the years.)

Anyway, I suspect I'll have started on this new one by the time I post my blog again. The irritable, Domestic Goddess me will leave again. I'm no good as housekeeper. My time is way too valuable for that. Clean and tidy is all I aspire too, and I'll never invite you to eat off my floors, okay? Oh, and if you are peeved by that, do you use housework as an excuse not to write? Shame on you! Enjoy the dust bunnies and finish your book!

One last word on your writing. If you haven't completed your first book yet, get it done as soon as possible. No more excuses: no cleaning the bathroom right now; declare a moratorium on emails and frivolous Googling; no catching that movie on TV that you've been dying to see. (Are there any like that these days? My TV is as barren as a desert.) Finish the book! A magical thing will then happen: you'll be itching to start the next. You've done it once, you've opened the flood gates. You are no longer a would-be writer -- you are a real writer, dues paid in the form of the emotions and time you've spent with it. The anxiety you felt -- Is it any good? Am I any good? Am I wasting my time? -- all these will fall away with the next manuscript.

Forget your need to publish. You have all the time in the world. Those painters of old, who died before their work was recognized -- were they not great artists? Does not being published make your work any less valid? In fact, I'd suggest not submitting to an agent until your second book is underway, and you can mention that in your query. You'll have so much more confidence and will be almost blase with the rejections you'll get (yes, you're bound to get them. Agents are the most confounding bunch). "What do they know?" you'll say, flippantly shrugging them off. "I'm already on my second book..."

I know about your doubts and anxieties, but with each new manuscript, the technical worries will go. The creative ones should never leave. That's what makes your work unique.

I don't curse on my blog (what I do in the privacy of my own home is a different matter!), but if I could I would right here:

Finish your ***** book!

Ending Your Novel - Do You Resist It?

I've done no writing for five days! This is unusual for me, you probably realize. But I just couldn't quite face the last three chapters. After the rather wild ride of the past few months, where my characters jolted me, surprised me, irritated me, they are about to be herded towards the ending. From here on in, I'm the boss. This is where I must take the helm, so to speak, but being solely in control, knowing where the story is going, is far less fun for me. However, it's necessary, although I rather wish the story didn't have to end at all, because I've so enjoyed being with these people.

I said on Friday that I could be finished by Monday. Well, I took those days off, deliberately avoiding my computer, finding other things to take up my time. I could almost hear everyone clamouring at me when I passed by, but I ignored them. Thing is, if I want to be finished by the end of the month for sure, I should get back to it today. It helps to know that my friend is reading this as it becomes available, and she nags me for more all the time. Without her, perhaps I would have taken this last month off.

It's a kind of avoidance, of course, but legitimate at this stage, I think. Once the book is done, I'm in that "here we go again..." mode with agents. I don't suppose anyone truly enjoys that exercise. It's the equivalent of standing on a street corner, trying to sell my paintings, as far as I'm concerned...well, somewhat less public that that, I guess. (Although my Hafan Deg agent could want it and that would be great.)

If you sense my bad mood, you're right. Other than the final cleanup of the manuscript, that final, really final, dusting (in preparation for Typo Imp's eventual visit - remember, however many times you proofread, he'll still come a-calling), I won't have anything to do for a bit. I'll be too emotionally depleted to begin on the next book right away, and too cranky from proofreading to be any kind of fun for socializing. So I'll probably just sit, crabby and sulky, watching CNN or the BBC - which will make me even more crabby and sulky, albeit thankful I have two cats who love me regardless.

I hate ending my books. How do you feel? Does it make you happy? Perhaps this is why some of the Greats wrote such gigantic books, because they couldn't bear to say goodbye. But I am reminded of that wise adage - 'If you love them, let them go.'

Oh, and I hear you. Get over yourself, you're saying. But you're wrong. It's not me I need to get over. It's them - Strachan and Celia and Jay and Nell and Pam and Katie and Stephen and Harvey....

Hang on a minute...I can always make up some more. We writers are such a fickle lot.