Erin Lodes

My original deadline for finishing this round of edits was my birthday. Halfway through August. And I almost made it. It felt like every chapter was the hardest chapter yet and then finally it was the last three chapters. The last resolutions. The last bows to tie up.

And I failed.

I had the basic outline of what I knew needed to happen at the end of the book. I had a checklist of plot threads I had opened that needed to be tied off. I even knew what the last line of the book would be and was happy with that line. But that was all I was happy with.

At this point I knew enough to know the chapters were awful. I wasn’t happy with them. I just didn’t know why. I didn’t know exactly what I was missing. I had all the mechanics right, or I thought I did. And still the chapters were shit.

The dialogue ran hollow, the description was sparse, the narration was flat. Things happened but it didn’t feel like anything happened. The ending to my book certainly wasn’t going to satisfy my readers if it couldn’t satisfy me.

I sent my last three chapters to John the day before my birthday with a single word in the email: help.

And on my birthday, I had a Skype session with John that went far past our usual hour. A Skype session in which he confirmed that my chapters were shit, told me I could do better, and explained that I ran away from the uncomfortable emotions instead of working through them, and that’s why my chapters were shit.

It was nearly three hours wherein I listened, took notes, and tried not to cry.

Because I had failed.

I’d missed my deadline. I’d written a terrible ending to my book.

And despite John’s advice and knowledge and encouragement that I could in fact do it, I still felt like a failure. Because I hadn’t finished my book. I hadn’t finished.

And I didn’t know what to do.

So I got a large glass of wine (that would be several) and I put on Secretariat — one of my favorite movies — and my Stephen came home and made one of my favorite dinners and still I felt like a failure.

And it was terrible.

But it was also temporary.

And that, that, is the point.

I felt like a failure, yes.

But not forever. Not. Forever.

How I Finished My Novel is going to be an ongoing blog series detailing how I finish this freaking thing. I know, I know, you could probably tell that from the title… I’m being helped along on this journey by John Adamus, who is amazing and you’ll hear a lot about him in this blog series.

If you haven’t already, check out Part One and start from the beginning.