I’m bringing this up because I’ve approached the end of the second draft of the novel I’m writing, and, well, I’ve frozen. I don’t feel the urge to write the ending, which is the opposite of how I’d feel if I were reading the end of a story. The two are connected. I know that an ending needs momentum and it needs a character of its own—something that sets it apart from the vibe of the rest of the story. I think my ending has the essence of those things…but they’re kind of diluted. I’m not excited about it. So, I haven’t frozen for any specific reason, other than I don’t really know that I’m going to arrive at the end of this draft feeling satisfied, and I really dread arriving at the end and feeling like my story is just “okay”. I know I can make it better than “okay”. Probably even “good”. It just scares me that it won’t end up “good”.
This is the existential sludge I’ve been stuck in for the past week.
May your days be less frozen than mine.