This Substack is about unwriting. Which, by nature, doesn’t end.
Neither does your book.
There’s always another way to say what you almost meant. There’s always another angle to poke at. A scene you didn’t think to include. A comparison that feels truer today than it did yesterday. A way of writing that finally lets the thing breathe.
So when is it done?
When is this done? This writing, page, project. This whole thing. When does it wrap up, bow out, conclude with clarity and grace?
Maybe tomorrow. Maybe it already did. Maybe it never will.
At some point, the form just stops working. It gets heavy and repetitive. You try to squeeze something through that no longer fits.
And that’s your cue to shift. Move to the next shape. Let the old one rest.
Your book is like this Substack, never finished. So let’s not wait for a spiritual sign to let go. Don’t grip for proof that you’ve said what needed saying.
Sometimes there is a sign. Most times, there’s just silence. Either way, it continues or it doesn’t. That’s not really (y)our choice, so why make it (y)our worry?