I AM DONE!!!!!

Holy shit, what a sprint that was to the finish. I realized yesterday that I had a huge problem, which was that I had wasted way too many words and only had 2000 words to wrap up. But I wanted, nay, I NEEDED to finish today. This morning I sat down and wrote, and wrote, and wrote my little heart out, and my book, such as it is, is finished.
It really is a horrible mess, but I love it. I love the characters, I love its absurdity, and mostly I love it because I did it. Somehow, even though it is the sixth time, I feel just as proud of this accomplishment as I did the first one. I officially kicked ass this month, triumphed over adversity, and accomplished something ridiculous but astonishing. I wrote a novel in 29 days!!
I came in at 52,909 words, so I wrote almost 5,000 words TODAY ALONE.
I really don't care about giving anything away, because my book is stupid and makes no sense, and no one really knows what it's about anyway, so I will include a chunk of the epilogue here for your reading pleasure.

Tom recovered quickly, and the documentary release and charity launch went off without a hitch. In fact, it was a smashing success. Many NHL stars were in attendance, and it was the beginning of the end of the iron grip of fear that Five for Fighting had held for decades. Once some courageous people are willing to step into the light, the darkness begins to lose its power. Several former members of Five for Fighting who had been transformed by Annie’s stirring speech at the Karaoke Cabana joined Annie and Tom on stage as they launched “Annie’s Wish.” Their presence, as much or more than the presence of NHL superstars, marked the end of an era of fear, repression, and violence.
Annie had avoided Ryan since the day at the Karaoke Cabana, but when he approached her, looking ruggedly handsome in his tuxedo, she knew she could avoid him no longer. He asked her to dance, and she accepted. It was not much, but it was a start. She felt something in her heart stir that had been asleep for some time. It was something like hope, and it was something like love. Whatever it was, it was beautiful.
In the days that followed, there was a class action lawsuit filed against the NHL by 10 players who had suffered concussions in their careers. The NHL, they argued, had known about the dangers of head injuries, but had been remiss in their efforts to protect the players. Between the lawsuit, the documentary, and the charity, Annie, Tom and the others felt certain that Five for Fighting was done for good.
But not everyone felt that way. And not everyone who attended the gala that night was as happy about the events as all the others. From the darkest of corners, a young man watched the festivities with a cold sneer on his face. He wore incredibly skinny jeans, very very low; below his hips, in fact, revealing a shocking amount of underwear. There was a chain between his back pocket and his front pocket, as though he feared that someone might try to steal his wallet. This was of course ridiculous, since he didn’t even carry a wallet, or money, or keys, or anything at all. There were others paid to take care of all his needs, and they did their job well. An oversize toque completed his look, perched devil-may-care atop his perfectly coiffed hair.
He called over a waiter with a snap of his fingers, and gave him instructions, as well as a note to pass to the star of the night, Annie Donovan. The server recognized the young man, and wordlessly did his bidding. It wouldn’t do to disobey the young man, it wouldn’t do at all.
Across the room, Annie, looking beautiful and vibrant, sat at a table with her brother Tom, and his best friend Ryan. It had been a long time since the three of them had spent such a happy time together, and their happiness made them radiant. It made them shine.
A waiter approached with a single stem of champagne. He passed the glass to Annie, who took it with a smile. He then passed her a note, and a look of confusion crossed her face. She set down the champagne, and opened the note. She read it, and looked up to ask the waiter who had sent it, but he had already disappeared, he was in the wind.
“What does it say?” Ryan asked, reaching for the note.
“It says… Ducks Fly Together,” she responded absently, as she looked around the room for either the waiter or for the person who had sent the note to make himself known. But there was nothing, and there was no one, just a cryptic note and a feeling of unease in her heart.
“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, and she turned back to him, and smiled. It was a glorious night, and she wouldn’t let someone’s silly idea of a joke ruin it.
“Yes, I am,” she responded, and as she spoke the words, she realized that they were true.


Here is a photo of a hockey term I came across in my rigorous research into the world of hockey slang:



'Just Dangle' became something of an inspirational mantra for Annie. To 'Dangle' in hockey means this: To use exemplary skill and stickhandling ability to manoeuvre oneself around the ice. To Annie, this becomes a metaphor for life. Good luck to those of you who have left to finish.

The End!!!