I start scouring the interwebs for novel outlining techniques, etc., and I realize that I have a novel plotted out in my head already, after doing some of the things suggested on the pages I found, which I suspected. (check my tweets) BUT. I don’t know all of my narrator’s Origin Backstory, which would need to be filled out in a novel-length outing, of course.
Hence. No wordage.
So instead of figuring out Deepon and Carol’s subtle specific methods of terrorizing of the narrator, I start writing said backstory when a near-forgotten thought about the narrator’s background sparks… wordage.
Of course.
Of course a horse. A horse of course.
What am I yammering on about. Shaddap! It’s WORDS! WORDS! GLORIOUS WORDS!
Also:- something was eating at me. A person who had said some inspiring words (“writing gives you a voice…”) I had thought I was imposing my stuff upon. Oh-so-happy to be wrong when she grabbed the piece of paper I was scribbling away at, to see latest wordage.
Man, this illness. I am trying SO hard not to approach it in an antagonizing manner, but…
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