Hi everyone! Today's post is about a new writing experience I have just discovered: Finale Fear.
Finale Fear is sort of a new thing for me, and I think it's because right now I am writing Book #2 of the As Yet Unnamed Trilogy. Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up (will I ever get tired of quoting The Princess Bride? Probably not!).
Normally when I come to write the finale of any book I am so excited about finally getting there, finally getting to the end - usually writing one of the first scenes I ever envisioned for the story - that I get swept along on this tide of euphoria. It's an amazing feeling that often produces some of my best writing, and it lasts until about half an hour after I've typed The End, at which point I get a bit tearful and need chocolate and Taylor Swift or possibly Katy Perry.
Anyway, the point is: I love writing endings. Normally. The only exception to this was the end of FrostFire, for reasons which people who have read FrostFire will probably understand.
Now, the ending of The Night Itself was no exception to this. Long-time readers may remember that my Finale Euphoria was so strong that I wrote the whole thing (nearly 9,000 words of it!) in a single mammoth session one Sunday, and that I had to ice my hand afterwards because my hand kind of swelled up and went all stiff.
But somehow, the ending to Book #2, which I will be starting as of tomorrow, is freaking me out.
Maybe it's the fact that I love the ending of The Night Itself so much. Because I do. Something magical happened during my insane writing frenzy that Sunday and for the first time in my life the stuff that ended up on the page? Actually matched the stuff in my head. Which may sound really crazy but I know the writers out there get what I mean. That *never* happens. Except this one time it DID. It might never happen to me again, so I cherish the experience - but it does mean that future finales have a lot to live up to.
Or maybe it's because the events of this finale are huge, dramatic and emotional and yet - because there is another book to come - they aren't really the *end* of this story. Obviously plenty of threads need to be left lying loose or there would be nothing left to happen in Book #3. With The Night Itself I don't think the fact that I was writing a trilogy had quite sunk in yet. After spending the last ten months editing The Night Itself and drafting Book #2 at the same time? It has now definitely sunk in. So even though I'm going to put everything I have into writing this finale, some tiny part of my brain is not seeing it as a proper ending, and is refusing to give me my delicious euphoria.
But whatever the reason, now that I'm looking at the final 10,000 words of so of my book, instead of Finale Euphora, I have Finale Fear. Oh, the FEAR. It is not delicious at all.
Cross your fingers for me, my lovelies! I need all the help I can get.