The End

I’m finished. I’m done. I’ve reached the point of completion. I’m at an end.

It’s taken me far too long to finish it but a draft of my novel is now sitting finished on my desk in its gloriously unpolished state. Perhaps I’ll post a photograph of it. Perhaps I won’t. There are more problems with it than with an inbred child, more fatal flaws than a Shakespearean hero. In the end, once I’d cut away all the unused chapters that always drop to the end of the big unwieldy document, discarded paragraphs that have never worked, humanely put to sleep jokes that never stood a chance of living, the book weighs in at a rather measly 82694 words. Perhaps I’ll rewrite some of the end and get it up to 90,000… There are more jokes in it than pages, but whether there are more laughs is a different matter. All I do know is that The Chipster needs a rest. Half of it was scribbled too quickly and the rest drawn out of me with the speed of a sadistic dentist pulling a tooth. It took me a month to write the first 50,000 words and five months to write the next 30,000.

I now feel a bit numb yet I’m already thinking about what I’d like to write next…