Yes, indeed. I put "The End" on my 9th novel just a short time ago. Probably not even 30 minutes ago. I'm riding on a wave of natural high at the moment-
I'd love to do the little "I love what you do for me...!" jump.
That, or burst into tears of joy. I can't decide, so at the moment, I'm just quietly mulling over how far I've come since I picked my writing back up in July of 2006. It's been about 2 1/2 years, and here I am- staring down "the end" of my 9th manuscript. Wow! I'm not sure I can think of much else the rest of today.
It blows my mind that I've made so much progress in these 2 1/2 years, especially since my writing had truly been on the back-burner for 10 years before that. And even before that the dream had been ignited more than 20 years ago. That deep abiding desire and need to tell stories.
I think back to the Christmas I was 17 and my parents got me a word processor/typewriter. My dad sitting on the edge of my bed in my room explaining to me how to practice typing from this old college typing course book he had. Telling me that writing is a tough business to get into and asking me if writing was really what I wanted to do with my life, cause it wasn't exactly a "reliable" source of income and I might never be able to write without having a regular job to fall back on.
I was adamant about it though at 17, but not nearly as adamant as I am now that I'm 30-mumble-mumble-mumble. LOL This IS what I want to do, what I "need" to do. I know the business is hard to get into. I know I might never become famous or rich, but it's not about that- it's the desire that eats away at me, reminding me that I'd like to be published- to have others read and thoroughly enjoy the stories I want to share and have to tell.
Here's hoping I'm on the right path.