Euphoria. Where ever you are when you put down the last line of your first draft, you will stop and look around as if seeing the world for the first time.
Every breath will seem new, delightful, fulfilling, life-giving. Every sound is pleasant, softly filling the world with a harmony of earth song.
Empty. Completely lost, like you’ve let go of all earthly ties. Your goal, which you have put so much time, thought, effort, blood tears, stress, and joy into is complete. It’s done. I’ll have no idea what to do next. Do I stand up and dance? Call all my friends? I feel completely emotionless, almost meditative, above the world.
I usually sit in silence. Then slowly rise and, mindful of my every action, cook myself the first good meal I’ve had since devoting myself to my work. I am completely at peace and have no idea what to do next.
Some times I think I should jump onto the next project, start a new book, do something. But I can never feel the complete release and full euphoria of being alive until I write that last line.
Having finished five manuscripts of 90,000 words or more I will never get tired of this feeling. It is always the same and always a great relief. Even being a nonreligious person I still feel the need to describe it as a spiritual release, a disconnection with the world, the highest of vibrations.
I feel accomplished. I feel proud. I feel all the things my lack of self-confidence won’t let me feel at any other time. I feel truly me.
And it feels wonderful.