My God is Dead and Now I'm Bored

There's an epic in my file cabinet. It spans generations of characters. It has a meticulously designed universe with specific laws, long history, multiple species, researched (although rather speculative) mechanical devices and biological classifications. At its premise it's about Gods and worshippers and the few outsiders drawn into political intrigue, spiritual awakenings, abuse, and madness. By its end it is rife with cynicism and switched allegiances both internally and for the reader.

I have published bits of this in short stories, flash fiction and my (so far solo) novel. The feedback is usually quite good. People always say they can't wait to read the rest.

I should probably get on that.

But in the meantime, I've finished it. It's done. In all its little drafty bits and pieces. I know how it ends. I know who "wins" who "loses" and all the crap between those points. There is no going back to make alternate endings, middles or anything. The story is complete.

And here I sit. I'm like a moviegoer still in her seat after the credits have rolled and the lights have come up. I know it's done and no sequel will come. But I want MORE!

If I spend the rest of my life getting this stupidly long set of stories polished and published, I'll probably have to live to a hundred. There's a lot of work to do. And don't get me wrong, I love writing, love rewriting and will enjoy this very much…but the story is still done for me and that will always be a little sad.