I don’t know if I can fully express the emotions I’ve felt in the past few days. Instead of asking someone else to edit my sixth book, I took on the task myself. I’d like to think it’s because I want to add editing to my skill set; more likely, I simply do not want to depend on outside factors for publishing my book. Perhaps after my initial read-over, I felt it didn’t require outside attention.
Regardless, I have finished editing. There were a surprising amount of typos, especially in scenes where there was baking. The most comical was a lack of possessive, declaring “Bethy eggy fingers” instead of “Bethy’s eggy fingers”.
(Wouldn’t that make a distinguished name? Bethy E. Fingers. What’s your middle name? Oh, it’s Eggy.)
Now that I’ve eliminated the type errors and exterminated a plotline that served no true purpose for the story, I am left feeling accomplished…and empty.
I haven’t even thought ahead to this coming November. I’ve devoted that month to writing a book for six years. But I’ll be in college. Studying and trying to make friends. Will I have time for NaNoWriMo? What would I even write?
This series is done. I best describe this third and final book as “a summer of goodbyes”. That includes the farewells that I must say to my dear characters.
I don’t know if I’m ready to say goodbye. Even as I finished editing yesterday, I noticed a thread I could pick up to write about my “middle school trio”. But should I? Would I? What would the purpose be?
Oh, purpose. I still have an entire other series of books crying out for attention. But those books won’t be written for years, for all I know and feel. What will I do in the meantime? Write short scenes about Becker and his antics? I think that would make me homesick for all my dears.
While I am thrilled to be finished with the editing of this book…I am feeling empty. I don’t know if my Purpose characters can fill this gap. I don’t know if they’re intended to.