Yes, that's right. I've finally finished the trilogy. After all my griping, grumbling and fighting with unwanted plot twists and unco-operative characters, I have finally typed those fateful words: The End.
For the last time. At last, I close the door on Skatha and Errion and all the madness that has taken place there, and look on to a future where my slate is completely blank.
Legend clocks in at 94,147 words, including chapter titles. It's taken me nearly five months to write, including distractions ranging from camping expedition, sickness and a thousand and one phases of writer's block.
But it's done.
It's over.
The End.
I'm at that weird phase when you've finished a long-term project and aren't quite sure where to go next. My next project is leaping to the forefront of my head, begging for attention after so long, and there's a whole new world and all new characters to meet and mutilate. I'm really looking forward to it, but I can't help but look back and feel nostalgic. I've lived and battled with these characters for years, and now suddenly my part in their story is over. Gods know where they'll go now - probably off on some long holiday to recover from all the abuse I've put them through - but, for me, the story's over. I've put the link in its title in The Scribblings, I've taken the "(writing)" clause out of its document title, and I've even bothered to run the blasted spell checker through one more time.
It is well and truly over.
It is well and truly over.
And I think I miss it already.
