Sunny, unspeakably lovely day. Hot and humid - temps 32
Wow - a scorcher! But so beautiful. We're VERY glad Trudy got her puppy cut. We dropped in to Brome Lake Books to hang around and bother Danny and Lucy this morning, and their dog, Jessie (Trudy's mom) also had her puppy cut. Adorable.
Well - it's done!!! On Monday night I lay in bed, thinking of the writing for Tuesday, and I thought - I think, if I work really hard, I can finish the book tomorrow (Tuesday). So I awoke yesterday morning with that intention. Even, I said to myself, if it takes until midnight!
So by 8:30 I was in front of the laptop, with a coffee and breakfast....stayed there through lunch...had burgers on the porch with Michael and the fellow who is doing our geo-thermal - Phil. He was here to paddle around the pond and see if it's deep enough (it isn't). but we all broke for some of Michael's great burgers.
then everyone, back to work.
Midnight came and went. Michael went up to bed. Trudy curled up and started snoring. And I wrote and wrote and wrote. Determined to finish. I could see the end...though as always, it was a tease. Showed me its well-turned ankle, and then slipped further and further away. But finally - at 2am - I caught it. Oh, my God. What a feeling. So few words more satisfying to write, at least for me, than THE END. though by then I was so punch-drunk, and had hit so many wrong keys and had to backspace and re-write it felt as though I was writing each word, each sentence, each paragraph twice! I reached the stage of such exhaustion that I just wanted the murderer to stand up in the middle of a scene and give himself up! (safe to say "him" since this book is set in a monastery and they're all 'hims' - and some hymns ((forgive me, I'm still a little tired))
Normally when I get to 'the end' I made a ceremony, a ritual, of it. To mark this momentous and joyous occasion. But at 2am this morning all I wanted to do was spell THE END right.
I am thrilled to be finished the first draft. I turned out the lights and hauled by achy body upstairs. But not before noticing all sorts of weird sounds about the house at that hour. Including a huge thudding on the window that kinda freaked me out. I went over there and the world's largest moth was trying to get in. It reminded me of that B-grade Japanese horror monster, Mothra. Mothra was trying to get into our home.
I went back to writing. Bookzilla was waiting for me to wrestle it to the ground.
Upstairs I found Michael reading...waiting up for me. Isn't that amazing. He asked if he could save my work and I thanked him, but let him off that hook. Normally after each writing session he saves the work on his 'stick' then down loads it to his computer. I'm always afraid my old clunker will finally clunk its last - and die. And the book will be trapped inside. But I couldn't ask Michael to go down and save it, so we rolled over and went to bed.
When I woke up at 8am Michael was already up. He'd saved the work and had even done a final word-count, since he knows I can't really relax until I hear the 'bad' news. But it wasn't so bad! What a relief. Still needs 10-15-thousand words taken out, but I think I can do that without too much blood and shrieking.
We celebrated by going to cowansville for eggs, bacon and french toast, and all the coffee in chipped white mugs we could drink. And that amazing creeping realization that I don't have to hurry home. I don't have to think about that day's writing, or tomorrows.
I can relax. it takes me a while to really 'get' that - and totally unwind. But it begins.
I plan to take a week off - maybe more. Probably more. But hard to tell right now. I love the book, but I'm so pooped I can't think about it. But I'll know when its time to do the 2nd draft. It's so important for me to step back, detach, get some distance and perspective. Breathe. And then plunge in again.
Thanks for holding my hand through all this. You make it even more fun!