I'm on the last part of the book I started last week and I can't force myself to finish the end. It's not because it isn't worked out. In fact, I have it all worked out. I know exactly what the characters are going to say and do. I know how it ends. This is always so hard for me to write, because it is much like reading the last chapter of a murder mystery, knowing "whodunnit" and not caring about reading it because there are no surprises.
Often when I'm in one of my writing blitzes (like this past week where I have written over fifty thousand (50,000) words in nine (9) days) I sometimes don't know where my characters are going to take me. It's an adventure. As the words spill across the screen (I write almost exclusively on the computer) it is like I am reading someone else's work. It's intriguing. But as I get towards the end I start thinking about where my characters need to go to "have closure."
Early this morning I was lazing in bed enjoying the tremendous pounding of the rain on my roof and the distant rumble of thunder. I started thinking about this book that is so close to being finished. I had an idea where I was going with my story, but I wasn't quite sure how I was going to get there exactly. And then it all worked out. All the characters were strategically placed around the board and I had the conclusion in check mate. And I can't force the queen to take the king.
I have baked biscuits (see previous post), checked my e-mail (several times), visited almost all my boards on Ravelry (my name is knitcookwrite there as well), looked through some knitting patterns, ate biscuits, talked to my friend Susan on the phone for nearly an hour about everything from the Cars for Clunkers program to Mexican food, and taken a shower. Oh and written another blog post. So I'm taking myself out of the house and going to the bookstore with my Moleskin Notebook and refusing to come home until I have written it out.
I'm taking a knitting project to. This is going to be a long day.