I suspect the first final draft a writer finishes probably is a big deal. I didn't have time to celebrate the first final draft I wrote. I had to write the book in a month, and it had to reach an agent in time for her to get it to a publisher within a week after that.
I actually wrote the book in three weeks, and all I wanted to do after that was sleep. And sleep. And sleep some more.
The book was published pretty fast, and I spent the time between handing in the book and its actual publication writing mostly short stuff to bring in money. When it did hit the stores, I had about ten minutes of "Ain't this cool" before I realized all it really meant was that I needed to sit down and start from scratch, do it all over again.
Sure enough, my agent called about two weeks later and said the publisher wanted a sequel.
Anyway, congratulations on finishing the final draft. It's a good thing, and you're right to celebrate. I just think that most writers who have been at it for a time realize there's often a big gap between final draft and actually selling a book, and that what a final draft really means is that it's time to sit down and start another first draft.
I don't mean any of this to sound like a downer. I'm a writer, and it's a life I enjoy greatly. There is a feeling of satisfaction when a new book sells, or when a short story or article finds a home at a magazine I've never sold to. I truly enjoy the process of writing, but it's the life writing allows me to live that I love most of all.
As much as I enjoy writing, and I do enjoy it greatly or I wouldn't write another word, the things I really celebrate are pretty much all outside of writing. A daughter-in-law brought my fourth grandchild into the world at 12:20 A. M. Tuesday morning. Writing allowed me to be there, but a Nobel Prize wouldn't be as much cause for celebration as that grandchild.
Writing is what I do, and it's a great way to live, but it isn't my life, and is far down the list of things I care about most.