It’s not a finish line, it’s the velvet rope to your after party.

For some reason it became a ritual of mine to listen to the band Travis when I had completed a piece of Writing. It was possibly a hangover of when I could, and wished to, stay up late writing. One particularly fruitful period had me finishing several short film scripts and high on the then pinnacle of my creative output, and because it was on, Travis became the cigar at the end of each new draft.

As projects get bigger the length of time to write each becomes a bit longer. And of course, as the wisdom goes, ‘writing is re-writing’, so reaching the end of a first draft is by no means the ultimate finish line (if there even is a finish line for a piece of writing? When is a painting finished? When is an album finished? as Lars ruminated). And you have to write more than one thing; to have enough baskets to put those eggs in you have to write many things. Many big, endlessly reworked things. You can’t possibly mark every success in all that. Hell, if I ran a marathon (I’m not) I would want to Celebrate every mile I managed, but I don’t think they’d let me bring along 26 of my own portable mini finish lines. Damn right that I’d celebrate after I made it to the end though (post vomiting, ice bath, sleep and checking my phone).

Somewhere along the line however I forgot to celebrate my marathons (metaphor. It’s not going to happen). In the spirit of keeping the momentum going it is tempting, and seemingly good practice, to get straight on to the next thing and not rest on one’s laurels. During a busy summer last year I went from one project to another in an increasingly zombie-like state. As someone noted, I didn’t seem to be enjoying any of it. They were right, in the rush to get to the next thing I didn’t take the time to appreciate what was happening in the present and celebrate those little victories.

Which is sometimes easier said than done. In the theatre everyone’s efforts culminate in the performance. In film it’s the end of the shoot or the screening that brings people together to say ‘we did it!’ and probably get drunk. When it comes to writing though you start alone and, though others may inform the process, you finish alone. If it’s a script then it will perhaps go on to be owned by others and celebrated then when they realise it. Otherwise it’s a race only you know what it feels like to have run.

Today I finished the first draft of a novel, my first. I wasn’t sick, but it feels like I have just completed a marathon. Even if it’s the only draft I ever do I wanted to pause and say ‘I did it!’ And that I listened to some Travis. And I might some cake or something.

Celebrate your achievements, be proud. Take a day off and eat something nice, drink and see good people, you’ve earned it. There will always be something new to start on tomorrow.

Happy days. : )