Paul Valery once said that "a poem is never finished, only abandoned." That's how I feel every time I'm approaching the end of a work. I'm not talking about editing; I'm a brutal editor.
Toward the end the work takes on a life of its own and it's out of the writer's hands. Anything you attempt seems false and unworthy and you wait patiently, attentively, for your character to emerge.
Five novels later, the end is still an illusion and if I attempt to defy the process, like a convict I'm engaged in forced labor and it's painfully apparent.
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