I’m writing the last chapter of my novel to show me the middle of the story. Some where on the scary white screen, the solution to my problem lurks like a polar bear in a snowstorm.
This last-chapter-first isn’t my original idea, of course, but this is the first time I’ve felt the need for this kind of inspiration and guidance. (My muse is of no help. He’s off in the Bahamas somewhere, warming in the sun and drinking my Corona.)
I suppose each novel presents new challenges but somehow I’m in an unwanted pause mode. Too far in to stop. Funny, isn’t it? Last novel I had to cut over 10,000 words, and this time I struggle for each paragraph. Maybe I’ve forgotten to first draft with my heart and not my head.
The successes and problems of the first novel taught me so much; the second novel shows me how much I still have to learn.
What are you learning from your second novel?