THE WRITING. . .I tightened up that Epilogue, worked on a few other things and then. . .I was done. Yes, again. ;) It was another “finished” episode. This was a Biggie: I emailed it to the editors. It was time to let it go (no matter that today is Good Friday and no one is going to see the email until after Easter).
Thanks be to God.
There is always the post-mortem: What do I think? How do I feel? I feel good about the work. I put forth my best efforts. I miss my characters.
There is always the post-mortem: What do I think? How do I feel? I feel good about the work. I put forth my best efforts. I miss my characters.
THE DETAILS. . .The remainder of the day I moved in a fog. How do we writers come out of it, how do we leave a world in which we’ve lived and breathed for months and months? It’s like being born or gaining sight: everything is new. Everything is bright and shiny and a little bit scary.
I emailed my daughter and asked what they were doing for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving. In an email. It wasn’t a slip of the tongue. Slip of coherent thought, perhaps. ;)
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