My Way

I mentioned in my author's note for chapter 54 that I was having a bit of a crisis in the middle of writing Chuck vs. the Sound of Music II.  How much I still had to write was definitely a huge part of it.  At the same time, though, I noticed readers were dropping away from the story.  The chapters were long.  The story was already long and only going to get a lot longer.  This wasn't just my usual paranoia, however.  I read on one fan fiction board, "I'm not reading SOM2 anymore.  Nothing happens."

Ouch.

Needless to say, that shook my confidence a bit, even though I knew there were lots of people who were still enjoying the story.  You know how it is. It's easy to focus on the negative.

After a therapy session with my fan fiction shrink, Frea, who wisely told me, "You can't please everyone," I decided to write for the people who did like the story and not worry about those who didn't.  I chose to embrace the fact that it was going to be a behemoth of a story rather than be concerned about it.  It was going to be the story I wanted to tell no matter what and if only a handful of people were there at the end, so be it.

In the end, I wrote it "My Way."

(Note:  The following song has a couple of spoilers in it, so if you haven't read to the final chapter yet, continue at your own risk.)

My Way

(with apologies to Paul Anka)

(play the video at the bottom and sing along!)

And now, the end is here

And so I post the final chapter.

This tale, I know it’s clear

Had lots of things, even a captor.

I wrote a family’s trip

They traveled European railways.

And more, much more than this,

I wrote it my way.

Regrets, I have a few

I know Berlin, it lacked real tension.

I did what I had to do and even wrote of a conception.

I planned each city’s course, each careful step along the plot-way.

And more, much more than this,

I wrote it my way.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew.

But through those times, when plagued with doubt

That ate me up and spit me out,

I faced it all and I stood tall

And wrote it my way.

They loved, they laughed and cried.

They had their fill, their share of shooting.

And now, dear God I hope, you found some of it amusing.

To think I wrote all that

When there were days, where I would just say,

“Oh, no, this thing won’t end!”

 I wrote it my way.

It wasn’t all fluff, it had a plot.

Benoit is dead ’cause he was shot.

I wrote my best, I wrote with zeal.

Okay, I’m not Eugene O’Neill.

It’s at a close, it maybe blows, but wrote it my way!

Yes, it was my way.