On Finishing the Job

No, I'm not talking about murdering someone. Or am I? 
Guess you'll have to find out.

Two days ago, I finished draft one of book two in my YA dystopian trilogy. The week leading up to me punching the last key (violently, I might add) was the absolute worst week ever. I could not for the life of me remember why I ever liked writing, why this story matters, or why anyone would possibly care about it. And it got me thinking: it must be like that for other writers, too.

One of my very good friends once told me that she has a mind full of hundreds of stories, none of which she'll ever finish. I do think she'll find the one that begs her to finish it, but I still feel her pain. 

This one is for those of you who are wrestling with the second act, the last few chapters, or even the last few words. 

In the words of Mortal Kombat, FINISH HIM.

Here's what happened to me in the days after I finished writing draft one.

1. I read books. FOR PLEASURE.
Okay, this is so big for me. If you're anything like me, reading books you enjoy has taken a back seat to writing books you enjoy. I read a few books every few months, but that is nothing like the avid reader I used to be. This week alone, I finished reading two manuscripts that friends have given me, a YA novel (Rite of Rejection by Sarah Negovetich), and - of course - "The Cursed Child" is next on the list. I can't even describe to you how amazing it is to have time for all this.

2. I finally did my hair.
And put on makeup. And left my house... you get the picture. I honestly do not know what came over me in the past week, but I turned into a little couch troll with permanent laptop imprints on my thighs. I think I might have worn the same pair of pants for a few days, and then I forgot about pants altogether. So when I finally got up, stretched, and looked in the mirror, it's safe to say that I was more than a little grossed out. 
On the upside, after seeing the hideous post-writing beast, brushing my hair made me look like a supermodel. 

3. I cleaned my house. 
And it turns out, that was desperately needed. There was a veritable mountain of dirty dishes, my laundry hamper looked sort of like it might get up and walk away, and the recycling was blocking the door. I'm not proud of it. 

4. I remembered that there are other people in the world. 
I have friends! And they still love me, even though I was basically unreachable for the end of July. It takes a special sort of person to be able to understand that I'm a writer, which means I'll disappear sometimes, and when I resurface, I will not smell good. So, yeah, my people are pretty cool.

5. People got excited.
This was so so so awesome. As soon as I announced that the manuscript was done, people were clamoring to know when they'll be able to get the book, and that just melted my heart. Of course I love my characters and story, but when somebody else does? There's just something about people falling in love with the story that I love. 

6. I felt good.
By far, the best thing that happened - and the reason you should always push through - is the euphoria you feel when you look down and realize you said all you meant to say. That feeling is unlike any other. I danced around my house like a lunatic, ate a bunch of ice cream, felt ill, then danced around some more. 

So you should do it. Go finish the THING. 
You can do it, I promise.