I’ve been a runner long enough to know that the final section of any race (or workout, for that matter) tends to be the one that takes the most out of you. That has also long seemed to be the case when I’m working on a new novel — each one has its own special challenges, but invariably, as I begin to reach the end of any of them, I find time slows down so much that it feels as though I will never complete the story. Some of that is the long list of last minute, did-I-put-that-clue-where-I-thought-I-did tweaks that are made when the denouement takes place, but as I’ve continued on this journey as an author, a far greater portion is my inability to say goodbye to the characters so I can put them away for a bit. I wind up so invested in them — in their lives, their day-to-day being — that I hate to set them aside for any reason.

So I slow down, inching my way toward those final words that signify the close of one narrative, and, if I’m lucky, the threads of what might become another. I usually have a sense of what the next tale for my characters will by the time I shut down that final session in Scrivener; it may nor be fully fleshed out, but there is enough that I don’t feel guilty that my characters will be in an empty purgatory until I return to the word processor some months later. That new story might change slightly during the intervening period, but not always in a significant way; I have actually set aside certain plots for a future story when a new idea hits me, one that feels more appropriate to whatever stage my characters are currently in.

I live in fear of returning to a just-written manuscript, though; not so much because of the daunting editing task that usually follows, but often because I worry that what I wrote will be, frankly, awful. Often when you are in the moment the prose feels like it’s spot on; after letting the paragraphs languish for a bit, the trepidation builds that I wasn’t quite a brilliant as I thought, or the words that felt so cleverly chosen at the time were, in fact, not. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way as an author; nor do I ever wish to become immune to them. Coming into the editing phase with a bit of self-introspection makes for a better product at the other end of the process, plus though I can’t always disguise the anguish I feel when entire passages get struck after review. It can be a harsh activity, one that never gets any easier no matter how many times I’ve been through it.

So I’m in that last mile now with Solitude, writing those final chapters that will reveal all to the reader and, hopefully, provide some small level of satisfaction. The story has been an unusual one, seeing Sean Colbeth deal with a case mostly on his own. I love this character and how he has grown over the last six books, and in book seven, he takes another step on his journey. I honestly can’t wait to share this novel with you, but, alas, it will be a bit before it’s ready for release.

Until then, there’s a book eight to consider…