How It Feels

So, this is it.

I am almost done with my first novel.

It's really been a humbling experience, to say the least. When I first started writing (and this was many, many years ago), I did it because I liked it. I never really thought about doing anything with my writing. I just wanted to do it because it was what made me happy, to sit there and write out the actions of these people that popped in my head.

It wasn't really until late middle school when I thought about actually writing for some sort of personal gain: to allow others to enjoy what I have enjoyed after all these years. And then in High School I entered my first contest, and from there I let others see my writing and look it over (I was extremely protective of my writing; I definitely don't like being told I suck, but who does? I guess I had to just suck it up).

But never in a million years did I really think I would finish something on this magnitude. Short stories, sure. Poetry, yeah. But a full-fledged 130,000-word novel?

Hell no.

But I'm glad I did.

To be honest, I'm scared. I'm scared of leaving these people behind that I love so much. I feel like I've been there to baby them through their trials and tribulations. I wrote down what I didn't want to happen, but I had to because it was the truth. I didn't want some people to die. I didn't want people to get hurt.

It's just so weird how people in your head became actual, live, sentient beings. I never planned on that happening. I never planned on all of this coming to fruition. It's just so strange to think that in a matter of two weeks or so, the first part of their story is done. And although, yes, there definitely is another story to be told with them, I think I need to leave them alone. It's another character's turn.

I'm going to miss them. They've become my family, my friends.

So yeah. It feels weird to know that soon they will be gone for a little while. But I'm happy to note that I'll definitely return to them. There is still so much to be told. There is something rotten in the state of Penigran (yes, that was a Hamlet reference).

As a writer, though, you are with these people for so long that it almost seems impossible to not feel some sort of loss. It's just . . . strange.

I hope that in the future you all will be able to feel what I am feeling for these characters. I hope that one day I become published and you read with your own eyes everything they have been through.

So. I guess . . . yeah. I'm done writing for the night. I want to put this off as much as possible lol. So to reading I go.

Book recommendations, soon. Also, my Songs of the Month post will probably be coming next week. Get ready. One of them I know for sure that's going on is a thumper.