Is dirt ever really done? You can always till it, plant something in it, jam it full of water so you can pack it into mud balls and chuck it at someone.
It’s the same way with writing. Are we ever really done?
I’m finished my WIP! Finished like spinach! Done like dirt! Over like clover! Kaput like…whatever.
Okay, I lie…a little. I’m still working on the last line. I like my last lines to somehow relate to an overall theme in the story or a thread of conversation, etc. I’m currently toiling to come up with a clever last line for SEX, PIs & PACKING TAPE that will accomplish the latter. However, so far it’s eluding me. So I’m fuggettingaboutit and declaring myself done. The manu is going bye-bye for two weeks, so I can clear my mind and return to it with fresh eyes. So I can see the forest and not just the proverbial trees. Or the entangled branches, as per this offering from one of my Sunday Walks:
What will I do during those two weeks? A lot and lot of filing. Some long overdue shopping. Updating photo albums (I’m only behind 3.5 years, which is actually fantastic in the Updating Photo Albums world), maybe clean a bit of the house (note: a bit), THINK about painting the deck trim, which sorely, sorely needs it, but, honestly, the thinking could take me 10 months. I’m also going to start brainstorming a new project for Penny. She’s going to try writing her first short story. So the next time you hear me whining, it’ll probably be about that.
In the meantime, Elle Muse is taking over with PACKING TAPE. She can mull the whole thing over, so when I come back to it in two weeks, it’ll read like an amazing, saleable, totally marketable story I should submit right away. However, I’m already thinking I might need one more scene that includes the villain. Maybe, maybe not. I don’t want to consciously think about it now. We’ll see in two weeks.