By Kimber An
I just finished writing the third story in the Ophelia Dawson Chronicles on July 6th. Oh, yes, of course, it’s an enormous relief to finally be done, but after engaging my imagination on one particular story for several months it’s hard to stop.
An enormous amount of energy goes into creating a full-length novel. For me, the story itself is easy. This one dumped on me like a ton of bricks overnight. No big deal. It’s the writing and rewriting that’s exhausting. And painful! I deal with tendonitis every single day. It was not a pretty day when I realized I’d finally achieved publication and that chronic pain was the price I paid. So, there’s the physical pain.
But, there’s also the emotional.
It’s like to a fabulous party and having the time of your life. Plenty of dark chocolate, all the guys want to dance, the music is hot, and I get lots of presents. Most importantly, I know I won’t have to clean up afterwards and the babysitter was Grandma, so she doesn’t want to be paid.
And then it’s suddenly over.
The chocolate’s gone and the music’s stopped. The guys went home and all the presents have been opened.
The Party is Over.
The novel is rewritten and as pretty as I can possibly get it all by myself. I’ve pressed Send and it is gone. That’s it.
Now what?
At our house, we call it the Post-Party Let-Down and my eldest is the supreme Drama Queen when it comes to this. I may not do everything she does when her parties are over, but I feel like it. I twirl around and whine about how much I miss my friends (my characters) and wail about whatever will I do without them until the next party (the next book) and then sent down for a good, long cry.
It’s pathetic, really.
And there’s only one solution. Write another book. That’s what authors do, you know. Write a book. Write another book. And another.And another.
But, before I do, I’m going to rest my hands while my husband installs my new voice-activated software.

