I imagine for most novelists, writing the words, “The End” (or whatever arrangement of words by which a book comes to a close) is truly a moment of deep satisfaction, a sense of completion, as well it should be. However, the real “end” comes after the first draft manuscript is sent to the publisher, is assigned to an editor, survives the editor, and is thereafter revised by the author. At this point, a point at which an author can truly say the last word has been written, worked, reworked, and flogged into its final form, does “The End” finally come.
TODAY is that day for A Murder of Crows, Book II of A City of Seven Gates.
Tomorrow, I’ll send the FINAL manuscript to the publisher, along with acknowledgments, the dedication, etc., and it will be in her caring hands to actually publish the book. I’ve had a celebratory whiskey and cigar this evening, and I wanted to share it with you, My Reader. After all, I’ve pressed all the way to “The End” just for you.
Look forward to reading your book, Steven. Please keep me informed about its progress.
How on earth do I respond to this? This passage with such emotive eloquence deserves more than I have to offer. It has been on my heart, my mind since Mom’s reading of it. How ‘bout a fervent, ‘CONGRATULATIONS’ on a finish so we’ll run. And as well to your encouragers, your quiet cheerleaders – when necessary, & not so quiet ones when needed, your stand-by-me lovely damsels and the pups, of course.
In my heart at the conclusion of Mom’s reading & sharing your picture, we toasted and partook a smoke with you and surely a worthy letter would have been long ago sent honoring such a grand achievement. l’m reduced to this albeit as sincere in praise as I know how to be via never to be seen again cheap technology. Congratulations our fair Son and our love and admiration to you and to your. Family. Mom & Dad