Seriously, you’d think I’d learn.
I made the first half of edits to Under His Roof part Trois (yet unnamed, because goddamn it, I’m bad at titles, too). About a third of the way through the edits, I started jotting down pretend dates, just to be sure things lined up. This novella covers Christmas, Valentine’s Day, a birth, and a wedding. As I was reading it, I realized that there’s no way it could work the way I’d written it.
Luckily, I’m used to this, because every book I write has this exact same problem. You’d think I’d learn. After getting slightly more frustrated than I should’ve, I closed my laptop, walked around the block, took a few deep breaths, and then returned. Ordered a refill coffee, sat my ass back down, spread out the pages, and fixed the things.
I pushed around an accident, killed a scene, and changed some minor details. I think it’s squared away now.
The next book I write, I’m gonna try to actually outline. Think ahead. If I pretend I’m capable of that, and maybe it’ll work?
Fake it ’til you make it, baby.
(Hey GUESS WHAT?! I worked today! It was glorious. Almost three whole hours. Boom.)