It never ceases to amaze me how the end of a book can just stretch into this huge (big-ish) chunk of the novel. I always think I’m so close, because all of the main plot points have been covered, everything has happened that needs to happen, but wrapping it all up just stretches into chapters. I always think ‘surely this is ridiculous’, but when I go back and read it the pace doesn’t seem thrown off. If anything, ending it any sooner would indeed feel stunted and abrupt.
I can say ‘I’m almost done – I’m writing the end!’ and say the same thing a week later, and it’s perfectly true in both cases.
Oh well – if nothing else, I get the excitement of ‘writing the end’ for days on end, right?