…I don’t know how to not write. I go into a kind of fugue state when I finish the first draft of a manuscript. Intellectually, I know I’m done for now. I’ve reached the end of the story, and I know to tuck it in the drawer and come back with enough perspective so I can wave my little magic wand and rewrite the kinks out of it.
But in my heart I want to keep playing with it. I want to write the backstory to the big first kiss that started it all. I want to do more character work; I want to know MORE. I want to go back into that document and clean up those messy lines I left. Around ten thirty, eleven at night, I get this pang. Because that’s when Charlie, my protagonist, wants to sit down with a few fingers of scotch, play his Frank Sinatra albums, and tell me stories. I miss him. I know that I’ll be with this universe of characters for six, seven, eight drafts. It’s not like I have to say goodbye right now. And maybe when I do that rewriting I’ll need to write new material and I’ll need to call on him again. (I do love when that happens!) But for now, I need the separation. I need the break. My writing mind is tired and needs to do other things.
Okay, I cried. It feels that real to me.
Maybe the novel isn’t the only thing that needs perspective. Maybe I do, too. I love my work, editing and writing, and the three months I spent working on the first draft of this story have been intensely rewarding and a continual surprise. I learned that I can (sort of) work from an outline. That I can (sort of) write a sequel. And that (maybe) I can write from the POV of several people I will never be. Although sitting in front of the keyboard day and night not only makes this Jill a dull girl but also means forking out extra for chiropractic adjustments.
So I’ll take my break. At least from this story. And then I’ll come back to my people, pour a virtual scotch, and see where they take me next.
Laurie Boris 
I completely ‘get’ this, Laurie. Thoise characters become so real. We know them better than we know the ‘real’ people in out lives sometimes – likely because we created them. Take that break. I have a feeling that the more you ‘need’ it the better the book will be.
Oh, they’re so real. And they’re still after me. So…I went back to a book I’d dropped. I hope nobody gets jealous!
I nodded all the way through this post. I cried when I finished my Amanda Wilson novels and when i said goodbye to Cinnamon Knight. I’m now heavily involved with another crowd and I know it’s going to be a painful goodbye when this book is finished.
I agree with Yvonne. Take the break. After all, Charlie needs you to be fully functioning!
So hard to leave them, Carol…thank you. Amanda and Cinnamon are such great characters. Charlie has more up his sleeve, he tells me, so I’d better rest while I can!
Such a heartfelt post.
This has to be why so many writers do series – they just can’t say goodbye to their characters. Ian Rankin comes to mind. He eventually did retire his detective,Rebus, and started with a new character, only to bring Rebus back a couple of years later. I guess he found he couldn’t live without him!
I may need to start a series so I can keep my friends close. 😀 Thank you, Mel.
Perhaps you could just keep drinking the scotch and see where it takes you. 🙂 Seriously Laurie I know where you’re coming form. is a book ever really finished?
Laurie.
Laurie, I’m ready for that scotch now. (Adding that to research list and wondering if the IRS will allow the deduction.)
Put it down to entertainment expenses. 😉