Encouragement.
Hello. Do you remember me? I'm that book, over there. We met a long time ago. In fact, next summer it will have been ten years.
I'm also not finished. At first, I thought you forgot about me, but that is ridiculous. I ring through your mind even today, if only a faint background noise. My story still exists, and you yearn still to continue it - yet you hesitate. Yet you make excuses. And now, I know what you are thinking.
You are afraid of writing poorly. You are afraid of losing your place, of forgetting where the plot was going - of becoming everything you despise. And now, you consider forsaking me.
Keep on going, my friend. I have been there through your tough years: when you were alone, angry, and hurt, I was who you turned to. I fueled you to carry on toward your dream. You gave your heart to me when you kept writing, even after you lost all your work. You cannot simply forget me, or simply quit writing. I will always be there, as I am now, in the back of your mind...waiting. Waiting for the day you come to the realization I am trying to instill in you.
You don't have to even publish me. Just finish the book. Finishing tells you, more than anyone could, that you are capable of completing a task, of doing what you set out to do.
Be the writer you know you are. I will destroy your fear through the beasts and heroes and villains you have woven into my veins, and I will pulse with your thoughts, singing louder than any doubt, and grant you confidence when you say, "I can do anything." Remember me, your novel. I will be here for you, even when no one else is.
// an
I think this is what any unfinished novel would say, whose author is timid at the keyboard, fearing more than anything that h/she will fail their readers.
