I Didn't Want to Write, The End

The book is done!  Published!  Selling!  Still the characters stay with me. Maybe it's because they have been with me since the mid 90's. Actually they first crept into my consciousness in the late 80's after I read a little book published in the 20's titled, 'The Inner Secret or That Something Within', by X.

My novel started with a setting, a few words replaying in my mind. "Shadows of flickering candles danced on the wall like gyrating cave drawings". Followed by, "The aroma of incense mingled with the scent of fresh cut flowers."

They rattled around in my mind until I finally sat at the word processor, (pre- PC), and let the words that followed flow. It was like a torrent of thoughts bursting through a dam. I could barely type fast enough to keep up.

I had no idea from one sentence to the next what was going to happen. There was no pre-thought; no plotting; no character development. I just wrote as I heard the words in my mind.

And suddenly he was there, in the scene, lighting the candles, gently touching the flowers, selecting the music that would create the mood for what I learned would be the first of his final Gathering.

My body tensed when he had the angina attack. As the pain sliced down his left arm, I almost grabbed my little bottle of nitro. He fumbled into his sweater pocket, uncapped the pills, and with trembling hands slipped one under his tongue. I sensed the pain easing, and I relaxed.

I liked him from the beginning, and I sure as heck didn't want him to go through pain. He became a father figure to me, especially when Peter and Marcy came into the room. They were young, hesitant, not sure of what to expect. They had come because they heard Annon, (by now he had a name), could help them change their lives. 

Somehow I knew I would learn from him, just as the characters that came to his Gathering learned from him. He didn't preach. He didn't really teach as much as he guided. I didn't know what he was going to guide us to, but I knew I had to continue to the end.

The first to arrive were Peter and Marcy, young, in their 20's, not knowing where they wanted to go, or what they wanted to do, only that they wanted to change their lives.

Alice was older, desperately lonely, missing her estranged adult son and daughter. And then there was belligerent Tony, who claimed he was there because he didn't have anything else to do that night. Little did he or I know the changes that would take place in his life.

They were the first to be there. I had no idea others would follow. Elaine, the aerobics instructor who admitted she had been a prostitute; Alan, Peter's sophisticated, well-dressed life partner, even more belligerent than Tony. I didn't think that was possible.

I immediately liked James. He was a lawyer who helped Alice during a snowstorm. I felt so much sorrow as he struggled to overcome the guilt of his daughter's death.

My, 'oh-oh' antenna went up when Mark arrived. He was Elaine's mentor, the Deacon of a church, who had helped her get away from the streets. He was at the Gathering to prove Annon was a fraud; a charlatan; a cult leader. 

Each week they mixed and mingled, told their stories, revealed their angst, their hopes, desires, and ambitions. They supported each other sometimes comforting, encouraging, and excited for the success as each changed their lives.

 Eventually and emotionally I wrote, 'The End' to the novel. I didn't want to. I struggled with the ending. I miss them, especially Annon. I know I can write a sequel, and the characters can make appearances, but not Annon.

Can you believe that my eyes just filled with tears? 

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