Today’s writing prompt will motivate you to keep writing whatever draft you’re working on at the moment because it will encourage you to envision what you’ll think and feel once you’re finished writing the last sentence of it. Keep reading to see my completed version of it: There’s Nothing Left to Type?
Today’s Writing Prompt: Writing the Last Sentence
Today, imagine you’ve just finished writing the last sentence of whatever draft you’re working on right now. Envision and describe what you’re doing, thinking, and feeling.
Completed Version of Today’s Writing Prompt
There’s Nothing Left to Type?, by K.E. Creighton
I stared at the screen, bewildered, which really wasn’t that difficult since it was 2 AM on a Tuesday and I had been drinking coffee for at least twenty-four hours straight without eating or sleeping. And staring at the same screen incessantly for the same amount of time.
I did it! I had finished my first draft. Of my first novel. At 2 AM on a random Tuesday that has no significance to me, or anyone else, otherwise. Until now. When the moment hit me, it started to feel surreal– like I had been cured of cancer, or started walking on water, or like I had recently returned from a trip to the moon.
At that moment, I felt I could do anything, truly, anything. I would never need to eat or sleep again. That surreal feeling of accomplishment and the adrenaline that came with it was enough to fuel me for the rest of my life!
But then I kept staring at the blinking cursor on my screen located after where I had just typed the last sentence of my first draft, above where I had typed The End, out of habit I suppose. I wanted to take a beat to take the full moment in and savor it. It had taken me a year and a half to get to that point, to the point of staring at the blinking cursor on my screen with nothing left to type, which was actually kind of sad and bittersweet when you think about it. There’s nothing left to type? No way. There’s always something left to type.
Anyway, the least I could do was silently celebrate what all the sleepless nights plagued with caffeinated self-doubt and brutal self-criticism led to, if only for a moment. They led to…
… the sudden realization of what would come next struck me: edits and revisions. Alas, this was not the last time I would be working on this draft. Not by a long shot.