Saturday, 11 May 2013

Book Ending Blues

I'm feeling blue.

As I sit here writing this, I realize that I'm procrastinating. Again. For the past couple of days, I've been doing everything in my power to stave off this moment - even yardwork, which ranks on my personal enjoyment scale somewhere between root canals and being attacked by a pit bull.

With a deep sigh, I realize that I can't keep holding it off. I have to face facts. Swallow my bitter pill.

The second book in my Reading The Dead series is down to its final chapter. I almost wish it wasn't.

Putting those last words down means the end of a journey that began almost a year ago. The fun and thrills that at times kept my fingers racing over my keyboard will soon be at an end. I must prepare myself to bid adieu to the familiar faces in my mind, their trials and tribulations now resolved, for better or worse. It's a bittersweet moment.

I'm happy to see this passage of their fictitious lives come to a close. My characters don't have it easy. As their creator, I'm not one to coddle them. Were they conscious, I'm sure there wouldn't be one among them who isn't grateful for the release following my latest terrible onslaught in their normally uneventful lives. However, at the same time, I find myself filled with regret at having to depart from their world, both familiar and comfortable to me, despite the chaos my presence brings.

Tinged with my melancholy is the anxiety I feel towards closing the book and looking beyond it to other fictitious places, other projects where I can wreak havoc upon the lives of my unsuspecting protagonists. My mind spins with thoughts of elsewhere, where other adventures are just waiting to be unveiled upon the blank canvas of my Word document. I'm excited to begin my journey anew.

Yet the sadness of leaving remains. Always remains.

I'll return to this place. I know that. I'll revisit my familiar fictitious friends and maybe find other things to fix before wiping my hands clean and sending them out into the world for others to discover. But it's not the same. I won't be exploring it, shaping it into something unique, as I had before. It already exists. There's nothing left to find or build. What I've fashioned out of nothing is now standing on its own. The best I could hope to do now is to smooth down the rough edges.

I smile sadly and open the document to begin typing, my words flowing to that hated stone wall that I know lies somewhere at the end of my road. It's the one where some cruel trickster or spiteful deity has already fashioned the most despised phrase in the English language: "The End."

But I know it's not the end. Not really. That's why I'm smiling. I'll be back. They haven't seen the last of me. The third book in the series is already taking shape in my mind, the blank screen just waiting for me begin pulling it into our reality.

As my journey ends here, there's always the next road to look forward to...