I wrapped up Lorcan just recently–the first draft in any case. As the last of the Blackbird series, it was bittersweet to finish his story. It felt like saying goodbye to an old friend.
Granted, I also feel a bit like an over-dramatic twit.
Our stories are our babies. We nurture them until they go off into the world to hopefully be loved and not torn apart. Then we curl up in a corner to ugly cry for a while into a pint of ice cream.
Or is that just me?
Did I mention the slight tendency toward being overly dramatic of late?
How do you feel when you end a book or series (as an author or as a reader)?
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