My first draft was flying along, and then … it stalled in midair.
Everyone I know was happily announcing word counts and numbers of chapters completed. Facebook friends proposed plans for extending their creative spurts. My nosedive accelerated.
None of my usual methods for banishing a writing funk worked, so I tried to figure out why my ideas were gridlocked.
Sometimes writing bogs down when the characters aren’t doing anything. (That wasn’t my problem.) Writing blocks may occur when there’s an inherent problem with the story, and the subconscious mind won’t let the conscious mind continue. (That was closer, but not exactly it.) I finally decided I didn’t know what I was talking about. My research was incomplete. I was trying to describe things that I had no knowledge of. I had too many questions about the climate, architecture, artwork and topography to write a scene. So I spent a couple days combing the internet to learn all that and more. Yesterday, I revised the last two chapters. Today I’m eager to soar.