I started the last chapter of book three last night. That’s staggering to me. I’ve finished three other manuscripts, and each one is a unique experience. When the last line is written, there’s a moment of disbelief quickly followed by a rush of euphoria. Weeks, months, and in this case years of hard work are finished, and even though there will still be editing and polishing, the framework of the story is complete. It’s a feeling that I can only compare to the birth of my children. Obviously, their births are more profound, but the feeling is similar.
So sometime either this week or after I take the kids back to Jacksonville, I will complete this book, and I will get to experience for the fourth time in my life that sensation of accomplishment. I have a suspicion that this one will be more special than the others. I don’t know what the emotions will be specifically, but I’m certain they will be intense and overwhelming.
My hope is that this book is better than the first two. The overall story has reached its zenith, and I do feel more mature as a writer. Hopefully, the book is as compelling to my readers as it seems to me, but you can never tell. Often, when a writer feels really good about a piece, readers don’t have the same connection to it. That’s why I’m a little leery. I feel like it’s a strong manuscript, but I’m worried how others will take it.