I hate conclusions. Like, really, really hate them. More than introductions. And you know why? Because when you write an introduction you are actually fishing from the middle of your work and piecing it together. In fact, an introduction may even help you in conjuring up more ideas once you already have some on paper. Yet, get to the conclusion and you will start hating your book, yourself, your characters and even your family and friends. How hard can it be?
Oh but it's not just me, no, it's not. As I was lamenting conclusion-related issues to Mac in recent times, he told me that it took him one year to write the conclusion to his PhD. Did you see that? One year. Ye-eeear. For like... three bastard pages. I’ve agonised over the end of my book all day today, trying to write three little paragraphs that, somehow, manage to tie everything up (hateful, hateful, I like open endings) while not repeating something I said before. Is that possible? Maybe it is, at the moment it doesn’t bloody look that way.
