Week three of the expedition into Novel Territory. So far, food supplies are holding out, although there have been some serious missteps. No major technical crises to report, other than an increased rate of typos. Backups made and accounted for.
But this, my friends, is where we must be most careful.
We were warned by wiser writers, but would we listen? No. We were young and foolish. We pranced through the beginning, ruined characters' lives, and giggled all the way through the first plot slalom. And then we hit the middle.
The middle is a no-man's land, with long stretches of burning hot sand between plot points. If we're lucky, it means an uphill climb through rising tension. If we're not (hint: I'm not) it means hours spent staring at the outline and saying... "WTH was I thinking?"
The pace is starting to pick back up. One sentence at a time, fueled by caffeine and stubbornness, we will persevere. Because as Neil Gaiman so helpfully said in his retweeted 2007 peptalk... "...no body else is going to write your novel for you."
But stay aware, my friends. It's a jungle out there.