I finished my book! Which always feels like a miracle...

The first time you write a book, you feel like a first-time marathon runner. Everything hurts. It was harder than you thought. You weren’t sure you could do it. But you didn’t give up. And you are victorious.

Well, I’m just guessing it’s the same because I’m never running a marathon. But I have written more than thirty-five books. It does get easier. You learn to pace yourself.

That fear that you can’t do it, though, never goes away. Even that thirty-sixth book will throw up a new and unfamiliar challenge. And you will have a moment of panic. And thoughts of doom may swirl. This time I might not be able to land this plane.

It happens. A few years ago I threw away 27,000 words of Superfan and started over.

This time, it didn’t come to that. But I had to rewrite a lot of scenes. When I got to the end of Shenanigans, I’d figured out some important things about my characters. So I had to go back and reframe a lot of the earlier action through a new lens.

Twice.

But I kept the faith, because I knew I was making the book better. I gave Drake and Charli the book they deserve.

I turned it in yesterday morning—Sunday. And twenty minutes later a friend asked me to go for a hike with her. “It’s a new trail. I’ll send you the map,” she said.

“I’m in! I don’t care where it is!” was my answer. It’s disorienting to finish a book. You don’t know what to do with yourself. (Except you probably have to clean your house, because those last two weeks have been brutal.)

One of my goals for 2022 is to expect that difficult time at the end of the process. I want to anticipate that deep hole that I always fall into when a book is almost done. I’ll block it off. I’ll keep it free of appointments. I’ll be kind to myself.

Even after 35+ books, there are still tricks I can learn.