Maybe, maybe, tomorrow will be THE DAY. Maybe tomorrow I’ll write the final scene and find out how the story ends.
No, honestly. I know how the story ends. I started with how the story ends. But I’ll be able to read how the story ends.
But it won’t be The End.
There are still a couple of bumps in the road that I need to go back and hammer out. Other metaphors? There are some kinks in the paintwork that I need to touch up. There are some seams that need straightening. I know! Snagging. That’s it. We’ve got the builders in at the moment. They’re at an early stage. OK, it’s their first day. But further down the line, they will ‘finish’ the job and we will see more or less what our new loft extension (yay!) is going to look like, and we will spot all the bits and pieces that still need tweaking. And we’ll draw up a snagging list and hopefully, soon after that, the job will be done.
Which is why, if I’m lucky enough to write that final scene tomorrow, the immediate next action is to go back and start snagging. It’ll be a fun scene to write. I tend not to end my stories on ‘and then everything just carried on as normal’ notes. Because you don’t, do you? But more than anything right now, it will give me a sense of where to go back and put in the pointers that will make the reader gasp even louder when they reach that final moment, and be even more depressed that they’ve finished the book and immediately check online when the sequel’s coming out. Typey thing.
With Threads, the last scene was a sheer joy to write, but the last line was a nightmare. I spent weeks thinking it would never, never work. When it came, it was a joyous moment and I still remember it. This time, the scene’s more complicated. It has a huge cast of characters and big things are happening to them all. It will be like Hamlet, but with bubbles of happiness instead of bodies. No idea what the final line will be. Maybe it won’t come yet. But if it doesn’t, I’ll wing it. And then on to snagging.
Is it still the best job in the world? Yup, absolutely. Definitely. Yes. I’m not at all worried about tomorrow, or next week, when the snagging continues. I’m really worried about three weeks’ time, when I won’t know what to do with myself. But luckily, that’s ages away. Maybe I’ll drift around, mentally spending the royalties (Don’t, Sophia, don’t, you crazy woman. Your editor might hate it). Maybe I’ll manage to cuddle the husband and children more.
Meanwhile, writing. Yay!