About four times so far today I’ve stopped writing, thrown myself into a panic, come to the conclusion that this is nothing but a horrible mess, written the words, “then everyone dies,” and walked away from my computer in disgust.
In fact, I didn’t bother to delete those three words, “then everyone dies,” the last time I wrote them. They’re still there at the end of my current Word document, hovering just past the body of the text, sitting there below the cursor, a happy little escape hatch for me to fall back on when I finally give up on tying all of this gigantic mess up. It’s sort of like my mythical trip to Tahiti that I’ve been contemplating for as long as I can remember but will never actually get around to taking.
At any point I can just stop, mid-sentence even, and hit delete until the rest of the story catches up to those three words. Then I’ll be done.
Endings are tough.