After The End
By Kathleen McCleary | December 11, 2024 |
Six weeks ago I finished the novel I’ve been writing for the last two years. I typed the words “THE END,” sat back in my chair, and promptly burst into tears—something I’ve never done before after writing. But completing this book felt like a significant end to me, the end of a work I’d loved writing, the end of a period of my life that had included some major upheaval (I came up with the idea during the pandemic, and started writing a year after my mother died). I felt a mix of relief, joy, pride, amazement (I really wasn’t sure I’d ever write another novel), and a huge sense of loss that it was over.
Writing a novel is to immerse yourself in a world that’s with you most of your waking hours, whether you’re actively working on it or whether you’re showering, gazing out the window, dancing, or sorting your files. The characters you create can feel more real than the people in the next room, and the details of their interior and exterior lives can be all-consuming. So when that is suddenly over, when those people and places are gone, what happens next?
I’m asking myself that question a lot. I miss writing this book. I miss the characters, I miss their struggles and triumphs, I miss their world. And I miss having them to think about at three in the morning when I can’t sleep, or when I’m out hiking and it’s cold, or even when I’m in the kitchen cooking. Once when I was writing my second novel, set in the San Juan Islands off Washington state, I was so deep into my writing that when I finally finished for the day and walked into the kitchen I actually said to my husband, “Wow. It’s really nice to be back home.”
“Where else have you been?” he said.
I’m not talking about all the revision work that still lies ahead for me. This isn’t my first novel; I know I have significant work to do. And I’ll do it, just not yet. I know that for many the answer to this missing is to dive into revising or, even more, into the next work, to start creating new worlds and people. But change has always been hard for me. It’s hard to let go. So here’s what I’ve figured out about how to handle what comes after The End:
Wait. It’s a good time of year to for fallowness (it’s a word; I looked it up!) As tempting as it’s been for me to go back and edit and revise, or to start writing a sequel or something new, it’s been important for me to spend some time in my head and my life without the constant distraction provided by writing a novel. It’s allowed me to make plans and set priorities and think differently. Writing is how I figure out my self and my life; I’m a different person than I was when I started writing this book. It takes some time to absorb that.
Celebrate. I wrote a book! An entire novel, all 125,000 words of it! (I know, it’s too long). It’s a difficult, mind-bending, incredibly challenging thing to do, and I did it. No matter what happens next, that’s worth celebrating. I’ve had a few glasses of champagne, relished the bouquet my critique partner thrust into my arms, accepted the hugs and good wishes of close friends. No matter what happens next, finishing a novel is big accomplishment. We should all recognize that and celebrate it.
Anticipate. This is a finished full first draft. Everyone here knows what lies ahead: reread it, cut it by 15-20 percent, read it again, review the timeline and structure, search out inconsistencies and address them, and a million other things. Hard work—and full immersion in the world and people of this book—are in my not-so-distant future. So are dealing with my agent and sending out the manuscript and facing rejection or excitement or whatever lies ahead. I’m taking some time to wrap my head and heart around various scenarios and possibilities, and come to peace with all of them.
Because we all know, don’t we, what comes after The End? The next Beginning.
What do you do after you finish a book? Do you find it disorienting? How quickly do you move on to the next project?
Kathleen McCleary is the author of three novels—House and Home, A Simple Thing, and Leaving Haven—and has worked as a bookseller, bartender, and barista (all great jobs for gathering material for fiction). A Simple Thing (HarperCollins 2012) was nominated for the Library of Virginia Literary Awards. She was a journalist for many years before turning to fiction, and her work has appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, Good Housekeeping, Ladies Home Journal, and USA Weekend, as well as HGTV.com, where she was a regular columnist. She taught writing as an adjunct professor at American University in Washington, D.C., and teaches creative writing to kids ages 8-18 as an instructor with Writopia Labs, a non-profit. She also offers college essay coaching (https://thenobleapp.com), because she believes that life is stressful enough and telling stories of any kind should be exciting and fun. When she’s not writing or coaching writing, she looks for any excuse to get out into the woods or mountains or onto a lake. She lives in northern Virginia with her husband and two daughters and Jinx the cat.
Kathleen, wow, 125,000 words! I’m struggling to get my 87,000-word novel down to under 85,000. I think you’re right about “the end” of the book-writing time. Letting go and moving on to another story or project is difficult and sad. For my novels, I make storyboards with photos of the characters, setting, and scenes. I often keep that storyboard up by my desk so I can be with the characters as the novel moves off into the world. This way they are still here with me.
I love the idea leaving your storyboard up where you can see it for a while after you finish. The characters are so much a part of us, right? We can’t let them just vanish over night. Here’s to some brilliant editing and cutting in both our futures!
Congrats, Kathleen! As someone who has read and enjoyed all three of your novels, I look forward to this one. And as someone who has LIVED with my three novels ( one I am rewriting and the other two in manuscript boxes) I need to get working. Thanks for your post, Beth
Thank you, Beth! I know you understand the close connection with our characters and worlds. May your writing flow!
Kathleen, how wonderful that you’ve finished a complete draft of your novel. That you burst into tears just goes to show how much this has meant to you. And you will return to that story world. When I finish a story, even a short story, I attend to things I’ve neglected, like mending or decluttering my desk or other areas in the home–how those books pile up! But as I do these things, my story people remain with me. They thank me for paying attention to them :) It’s a gentle leave-taking, like one would with a good friend, where you pick up your keys, but stay on the porch to chat a while still, then at the car. Oh, I forgot–let me get you that book you’d asked me about. This clears my head for other voices in my head and whoever is the most insistent gets my attention next. After a burst of creativity this fall and finishing a couple of stories, the people in my historical already began clamoring for attention, but they have to wait until after Christmas!!! A very Merry Christmas to you and all yours.
Hello, Vijaya! I love the analogy you make about a “gentle leave-taking, like one would with a good friend.” That’s such a helpful way to think about it. I know that when I dive into editing and revising in a few weeks it will be a warm and happy reunion. Thank you for this! A very Merry Christmas to you and your family, too, and I hope those historical characters keep clamoring until you have the time to sit down and tell their story.
Hello Kathleen. As you may know, I’ve been imposing my book’s jazzy cover on the Writer Unboxed community for a week, so I am definitely going to “identify” with what you say in your excellent post.
“(I really wasn’t sure I’d ever write another novel), and a huge sense of loss that it was over.”
My novel wasn’t inspired by COVID or personal loss, but the sense of emptiness or being lost certainly fits with my own “The End” experience. I actually kept nit-picking for months before coming to terms and accepting that I was in fact done, and that I would have to let go. It’s very tough to do. As you say, characters become family, take up mental real estate, keep showing up in one’s own life. And I regret to say, none of that stops once your manuscript is a book. If anything, those “people” become even more present.
Thanks for your very true-to-life post.
Barry, I’ve been eagerly following your posts about your writing journey. Your book sounds terrific, and I so look forward to reading it. I loved reading about your experience with the two editors. AND I hear you on how tough it is to let go. Big congrats on your huge accomplishment in finishing the book and getting it out in to the world. Thanks for your comment, and best wishes for a productive, healthy new year!
Congratulations, Kathleen! I’m so happy for you!
I’ve been thinking about your question. What I came up with belongs in your Anticipate category, I think: Consider which critique partners might have the best eyes for a story’s unique challenges–then send them chocolate. Some of my readers are great at pinpointing sluggish sections, while others excel at seeing even unintended themes. Not everyone needs to receive the pages at the same time, either, and big-picture folk might make the best first readers, strategically, while keeping detail-oriented readers fresh for later reads.
There’s also value in what seems like doing nothing, because your brain will still be back-burnering a whole stew of things you can’t know until they bubble up as revelation. Journaling to invite those insights onto a page might be something to consider, too.
But, for sure, celebrate. You’ve earned it!
Hi Kathleen:
You captured wonderfully the full absorption into one’s imaginary world when a book is underway. It seems like the whole world is giving you clues and hints. Coming back from that absorption suddenly returns us to the world as it is, without reference to anything beyond itself. I imagine there are as many reactions to that change as there are writers, and there’s nothing to say a writer won’t experience it differently upon the completion of different books. It’s just part of immersing oneself–soon or later, you have to step out of the pool.
Lee Child once remarked that the start of a new book was always full of enthusiasm and promise because he could anticipate what it was going to be. When he was finished, it was only what it became, and seldom lived up to his hopes. The only solution to that disappointment was to begin another book. I’m not so sure. I think your approach, to wait, at least a little, is wise. Give your chance to replenish the well. (I seem to be stuck in water metaphors.)
Have a lovely holiday!
If you can take time away from the computer I think it’s a great idea. Sometimes I feel so driven to go to the next stage, it’s hard to take time for fallowness. but if I do, I’m clearer when I start that long revision process. Congratulations for getting to this point! Enjoy the break (if you can).