Love the poetry in the title of this post. Love the feeling right now that I've handed over the manuscript to my fab editor and I'm going to stop thinking about the book now.
I wrote the end. I re-wrote the end. I re-wrote the re-written ending until I had satisfied my IR (what Stephen King called the Ideal Reader), my 20 year old daughter, Mackenna. She has moved out of home to another city to study being a vet so I emailed her the final chapters this afternoon and later we talked for half an hour on the phone and she told me that I was being too G-rating in my ending.
'But, I don't write sex scenes,' I cried.
'Mum, they're not having sex in the street - it's just a kiss,' she said (or something like that or maybe I thought she said that or maybe I made it up but it certainly would be something she would say.)
I then read her the raunched up sizzling end (after being reminded by said 20 year old all the shit and hell my hero has been through the past years) and got the thumbs up.
She gave some excellent specific advice and lots of 'well done, Mum' comments and so I'm satisfied I've provided you, dear reader, with a thrilling climatic final book in the trilogy.
First chapter finished:15/07/2010
Publication month: April 2013