I spent some time this morning thinking of an analogy for writing the end of this damn book.
First I thought it might be like that super-annoying Barney ditty - The Song That Never Ends. Or maybe it's like the snake eating it's own tail... Nah, that's not it. This isn't circular. Which means it's also not like the Barney song - that's circular, too. Still, this is like the book that never ends.
Then I tried to relate it to climbing. I've read that sometimes when you're climbing, you think you've reached the top only to find you ended up on some kind of faux-summit and you still have some major climbing to do. It's kinda like that.
But really I came to the conclusion that it's more like totally unsatisfying sex.
You know, the kind where you're building toward a climax but never reach it. You thought you might be close once, but then it all fell apart and you missed it, but he's still up there grunting away... Nothing is quite getting you where you need to be, but something (or someone as the case may be) is getting in the way of reaching a really explosive climax.
Yeah, that's it exactly. Finishing this book reminds me of sex with this guy I knew about fifteen years ago. A really long time spent sweating and grunting, trying new things to get where you need to be and just when you think you've almost got the big payoff, you realize in the end, there really wasn't an end.
Crass analogy, I know, but it works. Sad, but true. Maybe he was trying too hard. Maybe I was. Unfortunately what it all boiled down to was a whole lot of work and nothing to show for it but a new appreciation for what gymnasts have to endure.
Lucky for me, I can still get to the climax of this book, and if I'm not satisfied, I can do the whole thing over again. One thing I know for sure is I can't be like that guy and leave my readers with an unsatisfying end to show for all their hard work. Because they sure as hell aren't willing to fake it just to save my feelings.
Okay, time to write this. If I'm lucky, I'll reach the real climax sometime today. And then all there is to write is the afterglow.