If the last few weeks were a novel, I’d be sending it back to the editor with some strongly worded notes.

“The pacing is erratic, the character motivations are questionable at best, and frankly, I’m not convinced by the antagonist’s arc. Also, too many ridiculous twists in too short a time—unless this is satire?”

Alas, real life doesn’t offer rewrites. No deleting scenes, no adjusting dialogue to make yourself sound wittier, no skipping to the good bits. Instead, we take what we’re given and try to make it into something worth reading.

Some Observations from This (Messy) Chapter:

Not every storyline deserves a sequel.

Some characters serve their purpose and then fade into the background, never to be mentioned again. This is fine. In fact, it’s ideal.

Narrators don’t have to explain themselves.

Over-explaining, justifying, or trying to control how people interpret your story is exhausting. Some will get it. Some will write their own version. Let them. If they’re so obsessed, they can pre-order the next book like everyone else.

Side plots can be more interesting than the main event.

While one part of the story was full of melodrama, other, far better things were happening—new opportunities, exciting twists, possibly even the setup for a much stronger second act.

Villains always think they’re the hero.

There’s something strangely freeing about realising this. You could draft the most thorough, evidence-based breakdown of events, and they’d still cast themselves as the misunderstood protagonist. Might as well leave them to it and move on.

Meanwhile, in the Real Story…

While real life has been handing out unwanted plot twists, my actual writing has been moving forward. I’m at 43k words now—final chapter? Done. Act two and act three? Er… less done. There are scenes that will need cutting, especially if this is going to be a proper middle-grade novel. But the antagonist? Easily the best I’ve written yet. And no, before anyone asks, it is not based on anyone in real life. Why give them the satisfaction?

Now, all that remains is sorting out this pesky time paradox. Minor detail. Should be fine.

So, onwards. Both in fiction and in life. And unlike real life, at least in writing, I get to decide the ending.