It's taken me, what... two years? It's not that long. More a novella than a novel really. But it's good I think. I don't know, I'm so close to it. It might be shit. It might be shit. That is a distinct possibility. I think I'd be heartbroken.
I don't love these characters. I don't think I do. No, that's not true. I do, but it's more complicated than that.
Argh. I will be happy to leave them behind I think. It's been like spending too much time with your most intense friends. The relationship it's loosely based on needs to recede into my past now, I'm ready to be over it.
This feels odd. I never finish things. And I tell myself that it won't be over, that there's still redrafting and tweaking and changing. But I still don't know the end. I haven't been able to look. Now I do. I've written one, but I might have to scrap it. I don't know if it's the truth. It feels right but too easy. I suppose I'll know.
