I'm approaching the end of the writing of the new tvdetective book, and experiencing some odd sensations.
The first, and most straightforward, is that I'm enjoying it immensely. It's strange to say, but I find myself wanting to find out what's going to happen. Now, as the author, clearly I should know that, and I do! But it's as if I want the relief for the characters, of knowing what's going to happen to them,and how the story will conclude.
The second feeling, which is more difficult to describe, is one of apprehension.
When I write a book, I get so attached to it that it effectively becomes a very good friend. I look forward to seeing it ,being with it, writing it. When I'm not writing, I'm often thinking about it - what's going to happen next, how I'll structure the next chapter, what a character might do in a certain situation, that kind of thing.
So now I'm starting to feel concerned about how I'll be when the last full stop is set down upon the page. I know I'm going to miss the book, and will have to cast around for other things to occupy me, or I shall start to mope.
I suppose it's like many things in life - a mix of pleasure and pain.
The good news is that I won't be without my friend for too long. After the passage of a few weeks, I shall pick it up again, read it afresh and start the editing process. So at least there's that to look forward to.
Back to the writing then, and onwards towards the end, however it might make me feel. Yours, for now, in a mixed state of emotions, this strange author...