“When you are in the middle of a story it isn’t a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or else a boat crushed by the icebergs or swept over the rapids, and all aboard powerless to stop it. It’s only afterwards that it becomes anything like a story at all. When you are telling it, to yourself or to someone else.”― Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace
The quote above actually explains a lot about the sentiment behind Breaking Bedrock. The story within the story. It’s the idea, the revelation, that it’s hard to know the rhyme or reason things happen, the way they do, when you’re in the thick of them, and that it’s only afterword’s, in hindsight, looking back that it all makes perfect sense.
This morning I finally wrote THE END on Breaking Bedrock and I have to say that feels pretty damned good. Like I can breathe. Like…I just needed to get this story out so that I could move on with things. It’s hard to explain, really, but it all seems a little transitory. And there is something about finishing a book that’s like nothing else I can explain. It’s part giving birth…part crossing the marathon finish line. There’s a certain high you get, that’s for sure.
As an added bonus, judging by the feedback I just received back from the betas, it’s a keep you on edge- in an evil but yummy- work you over sort of way- heartbreaking, yet.. all flows well, kind of story. Oh and the ending blew minds. In a good way. Not in the annoying cliffhanger way I gave you guys last time. Personally, I love cliffhangers…but that’s just me… and I know most don’t. Anyway, I’m satisfied with how everything turned out in the end and I think the readers will be, too. And on that note, I have to say, that sometimes, it’s nice when you shock the shit out of even yourself. A decent analogy, I think, would be the way you held that newborn baby (or newborn babies) in your arms for the first time, in so much awe, and in all of that amazement and wonder, and knowing, you find it quite funny that only thing coherent thing you could possibly even think to say might be: “Damn. Wait a minute…you mean I did that???” So instead of speaking, you simply smile to yourself and think: Yes. YES, I did…and it’s pretty fucking amazing, isn’t it?
Oh and speaking of “working it”…here’s a little something silly and happy and awesome…just because I love it so.