Sometime in the last 48 hours, I finished and refinished and rewrote and re-edited, and rewrote the last chapters of Of Honest Fame. And they have now, in jouralist’s jargon, been put to bed. And so there should be hearty sighs of delight, exclamations of joy, a general party atmosphere, and all sorts, chez Bennetts…
And I am and shall remain immensely grateful and relieved to have achieved this finale. Grateful beyond words.
Equally, I should love a bit of fanfare and a slap on the back (not too hard, if you please…) because this is quite an achievement–even for me.
Eighteen months ago, I never expected to be finishing this novel. Certainly I had done (and continue to do) scads of research for it. And the characters and the plot line, such as it was, have been with me for years and years. But I could not conceive of such a thing. It wasn’t so much about faith as about no faith whatsoever.
For with May 1812 so signally failing to work out for so long, I had no intention of committing myself to that much work again for no material recognition or reward.
However, less than a year ago, May 1812 was published by diiarts, and my utterly superb and wonderful publisher was already talking about Of Honest Fame.
And so I got to work. And therein lies the difficulty. Because despite my frequently restated avowal that I am lazy, feckless, and the idlest of idlers, those who live with me would say this may perhaps a little create a false impression. One under which I, in particular, labour.
The fact is finishing a book is a tremendously challenging thing to do. Mentally, physically and emotionally. And that’s not even mentioning the writing part. Ha ha.
The second book is said to be even more difficult to finish than the first. And it takes one several steps beyond tenacity and determination to sheer bloody-mindedness.
So, to recap: It’s finished. I am utterly chuffed. (My publisher is the biggest sweetie on the earth.) I’d love a party. But I’m so knackered, mind if I join you after a couple nights’ kip? (Because my brains are to whimpering-point.)
Oh, and btw, yes, I do think it’s a good book. Cheers.