My life is complicated, but sometimes I wonder if there's anything more complicated than the ending of my novel.
I keep telling myself that I'm "marinating it" - which means that I'm procrastinating and pretending I'm brainstorming at the same time. And in some ways, that's good. After rushing to finish my key chapters before the OYAN Workshop, a bit of a break is a good thing.
But a couple days ago I completely overhauled my outline's ending for the third time, and I'm wondering just how long is too long.
What freaks me out about this novel is that the ending has to be perfect, and I know I can't write it perfectly.
Stories have to be born ugly, but after writing over eighty thousand words building up to this climactic ending, I don't want it born ugly. Ehhhhhh.
The picture in my head is so sad and so beautiful and hard, and if it doesn't come out that way then I'll be plunged into a dark pit of writer's purgatory for at least a week. So apparently I think that revising the outline 293 times will help prevent this disturbing end. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. But I think in the end I'm just going to have to tighten my belt, straighten my fedora, and write it.
It still gives me butterflies. I don't want to get it wrong.
But I guess that's what revision is for.
And this, my dear reader, is your random Jake moment for the day. I felt a little guilty about not blogging for a month, so you get a chaotic monologue instead of something deep and insightful. Happy day.