The final story

My book is told as a series of stories that my detectives uncover in their quest to identify Jane Bardot, the body found on the beach dressed in fifties clothes, and her murderer. 

Part one is revealed through their questioning of initial suspects, the second part, by a diary they find, and parts three and four are the memories of a lonely old man. The final part is told by Jane Bardot herself. The detectives uncover a series of letters, written by her to another, and in them lies her story. This part is yet to be written. 

I am nearing the end of my novel and this last story should tie it all together. It’s also where the climax happens and where it is resolved. It’s what’s been building, it’s what the reader has been waiting for (hopefully!), and most importantly, it’s what I have been waiting for. It’s the reason I have written this book. 

No pressure!! 

I have to get this right. So I am taking my time this week. To plan. To digest. To work out exactly what needs to happen.

Straightaway I am faced with challenges: 

  • How to tell the story from the point of view of someone who is to be murdered. Yes, I can switch point of view at the point she is no more, but I want to avoid my narrative being disjointed. 
  • How to reveal all I need to reveal when the person who received the letters joins Jane Bardot before her death. How should my detectives uncover her last days? The letters would stop before the story ends.
  • How to make known the thoughts and actions of the person receiving the letters. 
  • How to hide what I need to hide until the very last moment. How not to give the end away. How to keep it hidden until it’s time for my detectives to act.

It’s clear I have some work to do before I can start writing. But in a weird way, the prospect of solving these challenges is what I love about writing. Because I know I will solve them. Believe me, I’ve solved problems more difficult, one’s that have made my head hurt with concentration. Right the way through this book they’ve raised their voices to taunt me. They don’t scare me anymore. I know I can beat them.

So it’s time for a think. This is the part where I put my laptop away, and get my notepad out. I will ponder these challenges on my drive to work, as I lie in bed, when I shower, when I sleep. My mind ticks along, sometimes unconsciously. You see, when it’s your story, you know you have the answers. They have to be buried somewhere.

For really, the final story of my book is part of me. Writing is very personal. It’s exposing, it’s rewarding and it’s challenging. 

I love it ☺️

Ps. Any solutions appreciated!!!


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