Whew. I’m finished. Okay, maybe not finished, finished, but pretty damn close to finished. I’ve finished the second book in the Phil Riley series.
It’s a pretty good feeling actually. Being able to settle back in the chair, nod the head at the computer screen and say to yourself, yeah, that will work. Okay, some touches here and there. Oh yeah, gotta change her hair color to keep it consistent, but yeah, this will work.
So there you go.
Finished.
But the smile fades as you slowly come to the realization you aren’t finished.
Not by a long shot.
Remember that idea that’s been pin balling around in your head? Yeah that one. Better get started on it while the idea still seems good. Okay, okay. I’ll start next week. Give my self a little vacation from the writing gig. But right now, I’ll create a new folder to store the chapters for that new novel. Oh, I’ve got a couple more minutes before I really should go to bed. I’ll put in the headers and footers. Well hell, while I’m at it….
It’s grinding cycle. I’m like that Hawksbill turtle that occasionally needs to surface for air but also must live underwater to survive. I know my time at the surface is limited. My time for a breather is limited. My time away from writing is limited.
So I take a quick peek at the clouds, maybe roll my face toward the warming sun, Then, like that turtle, I take a big gulp of air and head back down to the reef.
It’s what writers do.
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