XXXV

Hello and thank you for reading Out of Summer. This is the end.

It has been a long and often frustrating journey on my end, and I am certain it is the same for my loyal readers that have been here since the beginning. The ending I have chosen for Out of Summer may have disappointed some of you. I felt it was necessary to address it, not as a poor excuse for bad writing, but as an open letter to all readers.

Out of Summer has always been the story of a boy and the way he experiences love, death, religion, and most importantly, life. The story I wanted to write was not one that followed the criteria of your typical novel. Out of Summer is a way of seeing the world from an entirely different perspective and breaking down the artificial concept of love propagated through every lukewarm romantic relationship in media.

Though Out of Summer may not make a good story, it is one I wanted to write. There is no satisfying ending because that is the way life is: we learn lessons, and we move on. We love, we suffer, and we exist to move on.

I started to write Out of Summer as a way to try to explain the feeling I get during summertime. You'll see the word "nostalgia" mentioned often throughout the story. I wrote approximately 43,000 words, and none of them could quite define that feeling. I think there is a moment where every writer has to accept there are some things that just can't be explained (though I really did try).

Out of Summer is what I said it would be from the start: the story about a boy who lived in a house by the woods. While it might not be the most exciting read, it is what it is. Life just isn't exciting sometimes, and we move on.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading Out of Summer.

redopium