Okay, so. I finished my second full-length novel two days ago. That means the story, beginning to end, all the words, is complete. No parts of "oh I should fix that" or "let me get back to that section" or "what should I do here". Complete. And pretty clean. That doesn't mean I won't have edits... I sent it off to my freelance editor; I've got a beta review lined up and others to schedule. But the story itself... IS... FINISHED!
I don't know how to explain the feeling of having the story that's been in my head for so long be out fully on the page. Excited, nervous, satisfied, anxious, exhausted, jubilant maybe? Plus, a bit of floundering. I've been in the final crunch for so long (months where I thought I was "at the end". Turns out I completely underestimate my own word count,) that I have to figure out both what to do with myself and how to keep this momentum going. (Like, I've been really productive for the last couple of months. It's been super cool. I don't want to lose the habits I'm in right now.) This feeling has happened every time I've written something (2 full length novels, 1 kids chapter book, assorted short stories) so I imagine it'll happen with everything else I write, too. Except poetry, which is always oddly satisfying, even when it's bad.
Don't get me wrong, I have a pile of other projects, and marketing materials to write, and research to do. There's just a period of resetting my brain.
But also, keep working. No pressure. *slight hysterical giggle ensues*
BTW, my second book is called Walk the Web Lightly. It's a 73,000 word YA contemporary fantasy. Here's the rough pitch/story:
Fourteen-year-old Naya’s artistic family can see the lines of time, but she doesn't want to go into the family business. To win her dream of becoming a doctor, she has to finish Grandmother's contest before the deadline. But someone is rigging events around her, and if her secret gets out she’ll not only lose the freedom to choose her life, it will jeopardize her entire family.
Now on to the next!