I'm about to finish this novel, because we're about to finish November. I had hoped that I'd be able to write some updates to post here; they actually would have been interesting as hell, this year, because it was a fucked up month.
But the thing about having shit to write about is that you never have time to write about that shit. Maybe later.
Point is, I have that feeling. It's a feeling that can't be compared to anything else, I don't think. When you're drawing to a close, and you're elated and borderline depressed, because you created this whole thing; this entire adventure or mystery or romance or world or whatever it is you created, and it's about to end.
You've succeeded, but you're also about to be very, very lonely.
I have that feeling, that it's about to end.
It's a welcome feeling this year, if I'm being honest. Writing was hard this month, due to a wrong start, due to family emergencies, due to responsibilities and necessary breaks.
Or maybe it's just part of being old, not being able to stay awake as late or sit as long or focus as well. I don't know, man.
If I knew shit, I wouldn't write fiction. So much easier to make up a world than pay attention to the real one.
Anyway, I'm almost done.
I just wanted to tell you.