(Or, Why Much of What You Plan in Your Outline Will Get Changed Along the Way)
A Distractions & Subtractions post for Rule of Stupid
Writing a novel is an endeavour of many emotions:
- The excitement at having an idea take root in your head.
- The pride you feel every time you sit down at the computer and add new words.
- The anxiety that maybe you won’t be able to capture your idea in words as clearly as it plays out in your head.
- The satisfaction of when all the plot pieces finally fall into place in your mind, and you’re finally convinced that yes, this story works.
- And then, after months or even years of dedication, when the novel is finally completed, a satisfaction of a different sort that results from having successfully achieved a difficult, long-term goal.
But sometimes, this latter satisfaction comes prematurely; sometimes, satisfaction #2 and satisfaction #1 commingle, until they end up one in the same.
That is to say, sometimes, having devised a fully functional plot in one’s head (or on paper, or on the screen) feels like such a sense of accomplishment, the subsequent desire to actually write the novel disappears.






