When discipline writes itself off…

I am normally very self-disciplined. You kind of have to be if you work by yourself in your own house. It’s very tempting to sit in your underwear all day, surfing the internet and eating Wotsits.

But you can’t do that. No, no, no. Because A) you will get Wotsits all over your keyboard and B) you will never make any money and will therefore never be able to buy Wotsits again.

And I love Wotsits. I really do.

Therefore, I am very self-disciplined and make myself work even when it’s hard and there are lots of distractions.

But this week it’s been tough. Why? Well, lots of reasons but I’ll just pick the most relevant one. I don’t know how to end my second book.

I have the whole plan laid out, the characters set, named and motivated. I have the setting, the backstory (and you know how much I hate exposition) and the entire first three quarters of the plot planned out in beautiful detail. I’ve even time-lined that bad boy.

But, when I think of exactly how to end it, I freeze. Suddenly the washing needs to be folded. I really, REALLY, need to brush my cat.

Robot is very glossy as a result.

But the end of the book is still unplanned.

In another life I would leave it there and think, screw this, I’m just going to write the damn thing and see where it takes me. And if it’s awful, which it may well be, it can just be rewritten again until it’s better. But, when you’ve set out to write a full synopsis to be sent out to people you have to have an ending.

And I will have an ending.

I will.

I just need to get this knot out of Robot’s fur first.


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