...or as Spock would say, "Fascinating".
Sometimes, when I'm getting close to the end of a story, I start to feel a bit of reluctance. Usually, it's because I've spent so much time living with the characters, essentially playing God with their lives, that I don't want to let them go. Other times, it's a nagging fear that, once the story's finished, there won't be any more stories to tell. Yes, I know it's an irrational fear - my imagination is constantly working, coming up with characters and story ideas - but it still pops up every now and again.
I'm feeling it right now...and I'm not even near the end of the story I'm working on.
Today, I'm working on the second draft of "The Arc of Heaven", the second sequel to "A God to Dance With". It was written before I ever started the first sequel, the soon to be retitled "Really Real". I'm going to put these three, along with two others, into an anthology title A Bright Symmetry. Once all the stories are where I want them to be, I'll try to get it published, either traditional publishing or epublishing.
As I said, I'm working on the second draft of "The Arc of Heaven". It's not a complete rewrite, because at least 95% of the first draft is remaining. But I'm a better writer now than I was when I wrote the first draft, a number of years ago. So things are being cleaned up, a few names are being changed, the description of a character is being done over.
The thing is, I'm getting close to the end of the notebook I'm using for "The Arc of Heaven". Today or tomorrow, I'll be changing to a new notebook so I can finish draft two of "The Arc of Heaven", then start work on the third sequel, "Interlude".
That nagging, neurotic voice in the back of my head is saying there's nothing else to tell once I get through this notebook...even though there'll be at least a third of "The Arc of Heaven" left, then "Interlude," followed by "Being".
I sigh deeply and head back to the notebook...