All the storylines and threads in your novel begin to come together. It’s not perfect–it never is. But it’s fulfilling because this is where you’ve been journeying toward for the last year or so.

Finishing is always a rush for me. Usually I have some kind of twist in the book I’m writing, whether it’s big or small. There’s always the moment of truth and the swell of emotion. Concluding any story for me is personally draining and moving. I’ve been down the same road with these characters and I feel what they’re feeling. The cliche is so true: if I don’t feel what they feel, I’ve failed.

By this time in the story, my ADD is at full bore. I’m not trying to hold back, not now, not at this point in the process. I know that I’ll have to rewrite and edit but what I’m doing now is bleeding on the pages. I’m vomiting all over the place. Nice imagery but emotionally its true. I’m exorcising demons and fulfilling promises and finding resting places to end these storylines.

This is the part of the process that I couldn’t explain if I really tried. This is the part where technique and writer’s journey maps and how-to’s need to get thrown by the wayside. This is where it’s all about your characters and your story and your conclusion. This is where it’s all comes from the hear and the gut.

It’s a rush of glorious and exasperating feelings. At this point I’m already spent but I still have a little left in the tank. I use every last drop, every last fume.

Finishing a story is the payoff in this writing journey. It really is. I love it even though it’s draining and difficult. So many questions and so many ways to go and so many areas you can get it wrong. Yet there are so many voices in my head at this point that I can drown out the cries of doubt.

It’s April 9. I’m going to blink and see May 1 on my screen.

I’m ready for it. I’m almost there.