I love reading, and I do get very involved in my books. So while I can happily sit doing little else for days, racing towards the end of a book, it's always disappointing to reach the end, because the story's over and I have to return to the real world. Which can sometimes be a slightly jarring transition, especially if I've been reading an Alan Dean Foster novel, and have to remember that interstellar travel isn't possible, there are no giant talking insects, and no Commonwealth of planets. He has created such a coherent and vivid galaxy in his books that it is sometimes easy to forget that all these things are not real (if you're me, anyway)! My disappointment at reaching the end of the latest Foster novel is compounded by the fact that it's the last book in a series which he has spent nearly 40 years writing. And a series in which the previous few books have been something of a letdown, having lost the thread of the main plot somewhat and headed off on unnecessary and frivolous tangents.
The last book in the Flinx series was not in itself a letdown at all, in fact it was extremely good (but don't expect a review or even plot synopsis here, because if you haven't read the series it'll mean very little to you, and Mum hasn't read the last book yet, so I'd hate to spoilerise!), but coming to the end is especially disappointing simply because there will be no more. It's taken a long time to get there, but Flinx's story is over, and reaching the end is like losing an old friend. I've grown up with Flinx - I was 16 when I read the first book, about the same age Flinx was at that point, and we're both 26 now - I've always loved him as a character and looked forward to reading his latest adventure (even when it did stray from the major plot of the series), but now I have no more adventures to look forward to! I guess I'll have to go and get a life of my own instead! After I've read the last few non-Flinx Commonwealth books that I just realised I missed somewhere along the way!
