I feel like I’m losing my mind.

Or perhaps I’m turning a molehill into a mountain.

I’m suffering from indecision, one of those moments in a writer’s life where either you get on with it, take a holiday, start a new story, of finish another one.

I want to get on with it, finish it, sent it to the editor, and then move on, but I can’t.

I’ve written three different endings to ‘One Last Look’ and I’m not happy with any of them.

The reality is my editor is getting impatient and I’m getting frustrated.

Over the last few days I have taken a break away from it.  Every time I load it up, and sit on the page where I want the end to start (a rather curious mix of opposites) it draws a blank.

Will I take it out with a ‘bang’?

Will I let a few of the secrets out of the bag?

Will I try to set it up for a sequel?

Wow!  So many possibilities.

The crux of the matter is, relationships where people keep secrets from each other rarely survive, though sometimes it depends on how big the secret is.  In my mind if I was the one who was keeping a secret (most likely impossible because I can’t keep a straight face) I would share it.  If it was my partner keeping the secret, I wonder how I would react.

It’s an interesting question and begs the question of how much of ourselves is woven into the fabric of our characters.

We can, if we haven’t the experience of keeping secrets only guess at the outcome.  Or if we do, how much easier might it be?

Perhaps I’ll sleep on it one more night.