Knowing When to Say “The End” by Debra H. Goldstein
Five days ago, I typed the words “The End” at the conclusion of eighty thousand plus other words I wrote during the past few months. I rejoiced.
Those eighty thousand plus words were probably more like one hundred plus words because on one day, I had twenty thousand words, the next fifteen thousand. The seesaw process of up and down went on a week at a time. Some days I wrote in spurts and actually liked two to five thousand words. Often, the next day when I reread what I’d written, I killed the little darlings. Other days, I completely avoided my computer or sat and stared at it wishing it to demonstrate artificial intelligence and write something for me.
The day after I wrote “The End,” I chilled. I worked on our taxes, got the car washed, went through the coffee drive through window, and while my oven cleaned itself, I watched all the shows I DVR’d for two weeks. It was heaven.
By Friday, the computer called to me. I pulled up the manuscript and again went through it looking for plot holes, spelling and punctuation errors, point of view problems, and repetitiveness. I caught a few of those things, but knew I was too close to my work product. Time to send it off to other eyes. When I hit send, it was out of my hands – temporarily. I went to bed and slept well.
Saturday, I woke refreshed and able to focus on writing blogs, columns, and the beginning of a short story. All of these were things, except one short story I dashed off in three houses because of its submission deadline, that eluded me during the past few weeks while I saw myself getting closer and closer to typing “The End.” By mid-day, I rested. The world was good, and I could do something unrelated to writing.
Sometimes, one needs to close the computer and simply say “The End.”