Today at 4:43 pm I wrote the final word of a story. I chose that word, and the very last sentence that contains it, way back when I wrote the very first word of this story (which was “I” if you’re curious.) Even back then I knew that I wanted “forever” to be the very last word of the story. I didn’t know if I’d ever get to type it, but I was hopeful.
It did take a while to get here. Nine years, ten novels, and over one million words in print, in fact, to go from “I” to “forever.” All that constitutes StarDoc, a novel series which began with my first published book in 2000. StarDoc has become my longest novel series to date, and is the longest continuous story I’ve ever written in my life.
I think that rates a blog post, don’t you?
Back in 1998 I originally planned the series to be fifteen books. That was also the year I signed my first contract, and had absolutely no freaking clue what I was about to get into. Sometimes I still wonder if I would have signed if I had known. My heart says no. My checkbook says yes. My readers, well, let’s put it this way: if it wasn’t for them, StarDoc would be the five-book series.
Published books are like orgasms. Most writers are pretty happy to make noise about theirs. Even when they don’t enjoy the process of getting there, they learn how to fake it and be convincing. I’ve always kept pretty quiet about this series, though, because it’s been so important to me. Even typing this post makes my skin crawl a little. No, where StarDoc is concerned, I always want to set out great big scary signs: Private property. Keep out. Trespassers will be shot.
Of course you can’t be that way about something you sell to other people. What’s the stuff they’re always telling us? “You have to grow a thick skin. Be cool. Don’t take it personally. Pretend it doesn’t matter. It’s just a book.”
But it’s not just a book. You writers know what I mean. It’s six months or a year or two years or ten years of your life. Frantic writing sessions squeezed in between the baby’s nap and Daddy’s dinner. Draft after draft after draft. Long weekend marathons at the keyboard, fueled by too much coffee, heavy on the anxiety. Thinking about and trying not think about and thinking about the family car that needs a new transmission, the only working computer that’s about to fry itself, the daughter who needs braces because everyone at school is calling her Bunny, the adjustable rate mortgage that just adjusted again. Maybe for you it’s a separation book, or a divorce book, or a funeral book (for me this last StarDoc novel will for all eternity be the H1N1 book.)
It’s endless, sleepless nights, up pacing the floor or watching infomercials or painting your toenails with your daughter’s Hello Kitty glitter polish while you try to figure out how to plug a story hole or straighten out a character or please God do something to fix that lame dialogue bit at the end of chapter five.
It’s a pile of rejection letters in the past, a ten-page revision letter from your editor who forgot to be polite after page two, a paperback that went straight to the shelves, and at least one snotty, sneering slapdown, and probably more. It’ll earn out, or it won’t, it’ll hit the lists, or it won’t, and a week after it’s released it’ll probably be forgotten by everyone in the biz but you. If you’re lucky, only a third of the print run will be pulped. A month after they’re read, most of the copies of your book will end up in a library donation box or sold for two bucks at the USB. Oh, and the hate mail. Let’s not forget that you are going to burn in hell for whatever you wrote that offended the Book Police (but if you do, they’ll be happy to remind you. At length.)
Ready to quit now? Don’t. Because they’re something they don’t tell you, something only long-haul, down in the trenches, no-glam career writers know: it is worth it.
Oh, yes. Sitting here, head throbbing, voice almost gone, and so tired I could just collapse and sleep wherever I drop for three days, I’ve still arrived at pretty incredible destination. Finishing a story, even one as long as mine, isn’t about typing “the end” once and for all. It’s about you, who you are, and what you can do. No matter how long it takes, or how many obstacles you encounter on the journey, when you reach your goal you don’t just cross a finish line. You prevail. You beat everyone and everything that tried to stop you along the way. You’re no longer attempting do something, you’ve done it.
That isn’t just finishing or ending. That’s triumph, and that’s yours, and that’s forever. And when you look around, you won’t see any of those obstacles or troubles or heartaches you ran into on the way. They can’t be where you are. They can’t do what you’ve done.
As long as I’ve been working on it, I thought I would feel miserable to end my story. I really expected that typing “forever” would have me busting out in tears. Instead, I felt a moment of overwhelming satisfaction – the kind you can’t fake – and then a sense of peace.
So: tomorrow I’m going to give myself a day off, catch up on my reading, take a bubble bath, watch a movie and bask in the glow a little. Then I’ve got to head off on a new journey, because I know there’s another finish line up there, just waiting for me to reach it. And then one after that, and another one off in the distance, and then the one I can’t see just yet but that I know will be there. There will always be endings, but there will always beginnings, too.
For writers, the story really never ends.
And coming in 2010: Dream Called Time, the final StarDoc novel, by S.L. Viehl
Related posts:
Comment
I’m torn between being happy that I’ll get to find out how the series ends, and sadness because it is ending. Thanks for creating such intriguing characters and such a fascinating world.
Comment
I appreciate the kind words, Darlene. I’ve always considered StarDoc as the foundation series of my career, and it will be a little weird not to be writing it, but I’m very glad the readers gave me the chance to wrap it up.
Comment
Oh, Lynn, this post brought tears to my eyes. I am so happy for you and so glad you choose to share your triumphs and your process with us.
Enjoy your day, celebrate with your family.
Thank you.
best,
lisa
Comment
Thank you, Lisa. I’ve got to write something funny for you guys next week — I’ve been too serious lately.
Comment
Congratulations, Lynn. That’s an extraordinary legacy, one that’s worthy of pride in a job well done.
Your success and dedication inspires me. Thank you.
Comment
Thanks, Maria. But I really owe this victory dance to the StarDoc readers. They gave me so much encouragement over the years, and that is the best reason to keep going.
Comment
It is a fantastic thing to reach the finish line. And start the race all over again. Here’s to more beginnings and endings, world without end.
Comment
For us both, Charlene. It’s in our blood now, isn’t it?
Comment
Yep. No stopping now!
Comment
Congratulations, Lynn!
Comment
Thank you, ma’am.
Comment
Congratulations on finishing your series, Lynn. Sounds like it was a hard road to travel but worth it in the end.
I’ve had a story that had been percolating in my head for about ten years and finally wrote it two years ago. Probably one of the best things I’d accomplished. And well worth the wait, IMO.
Comment
Thanks, Liz. One thing I learned writing this series is how important it is to give yourself the time to write to your vision, not to what everyone else wants you to write (or what everyone else is writing.)
Comment
Congratulations! What a great achievement, to have stuck with it during the ups and down and persevere until the very end. You must feel such a sense of satisfaction. Enjoy your well-earned day of rest!
Comment
I did, Lynn — ended up making a trip to the bookstore, and stocked up on some new titles and giveaway books. Then I soaked in the tub until my toes turned to prunes. Nirvana!
Comment
Congratulations, Lynn. I, for one, am glad you started on your journey, and hope it continues with more wonderful stories.
Comment
It’s funny, but I was in the car today driving home and for the first time in weeks thought about a story I need to pitch. I had the characters but not much of a plot and I was too wrapped up in this book to see the story. Then a song on the radio started putting scenes in my head, and by the time I got home it was all there — another beginning.
Comment
Congratulations. Job well done!
I have loved this series since I read the first Stardoc novel. It was really, the best book I had read in a long time. I hope you will continue to visit this universe. Blade Dancer is my favorite book and though not technically part of the Stardoc saga, it belongs.
Comment
I don’t think I’ll ever leave this universe behind, Sandy; it’s too much fun to write in. I hope someday I can do more with Jory and crew, too. Thank you for investing in StarDoc.
Comment
A bittersweet moment, yes? Awesome to finish but so hard to say goodbye. I’m glad you won’t be leaving it behind for good.
Your rest is well deserved. I hope it’s a good one. But not too long
Comment
Sometimes I think the curse of being a series writer is the difficult with which we wrestle with ending things.
But it was the right time, and I’m happy to have completed the series.
Comment
Reading this gave me the chills.
I’m trying not to get all blubbery and whimpery and whiny because I know you wanted to finish this series, and I know it’s important to you, but oh, man I don’t wanna let Duncan and Cherijo go. Cringe.
Congrats, even though I feel like I’m losing two of my best friends. I know you had times when you didn’t think you’d get to finish the series the way you wanted, but I never had any doubts about it.
Comment
You’re making me tear up here, pal, but we’ve known each other a long time, and I think maybe you understand best how tough this was on me. For the first time in my career I’m not thinking about the next StarDoc book, and there is a certain amount of emptiness where there were always plans for the future. But with those plans went all the worry, too, trying to keep the series going, angsting over whether or not I’d get an offer, how much longer I could go before all the books are OOP’d, etc.
I’ve loved this series, and I would have happily kept writing it for years, but the stress of trying to keep it in print or revive it a second time probably would have driven me nuts in the end. Robert Jordan’s death played a big part in the decision, too; that really made me rethink everything I’m doing with series novels. Not that I’m planning to check out anytime soon, you understand.
I’m sure we’ll go through more emotions as the release date for the last book draws near, but I do want to see it as a victory. Very few SF writers have the opportunity to write ten book series anymore, and the fact that I did it is only because you and everyone else who supported StarDoc made it possible. That I will be grateful for — forever.
Comment
It will be a sad moment when I purchase the LAST Star Doc Novel! YOU made people feel as though we were along for the, (very bumpy), ride through life with Cherijo and Duncan. This series is one of the few that I keep in my ‘home’ library to read and reread with the story line never becoming stale, even after the 4th reading!
New ‘Star Doc’ Novels will be greatly missed, but unlike other series,(other Authors), this one is ending before becoming ‘stagnant or predictable!
I shall try to be patient until August 2010