Finished the workbook’s version of the outline. Finally.
Now I’ve just got to take that outline, plus my other notes from the workbook, plus the existing novel, and hash it all together into a regular, scene-by-scene, linear outline.
Easy, right?
Maybe it would be, if I didn’t feel so demotivated all of a sudden. Every time I reach for the outline to work on it, I can feel my shoulders sag. I feel like reading, or doing laundry, or scrolling through Twitter, or even working on one of the short stories I’ve got waiting in the queue. Anything but keep working on that outline.
I’m tempted to skip it, and just dive back into writing. No notes, no plan, just go.
But that’ll end up with me making another messy draft, won’t it? I’ll just have to go back through it and do the same exercises, all over again.
So I plod on. Maybe I’ll give myself some time off next week, reduce my writing days to 2 or 3 instead of 5. Allow myself to work on something else, try to recharge the batteries.
Wish me luck.
