I use the word “problems” lightly. Like I do with most words.
First off, I can’t seem to write the novel I’m working on in a linear fashion. It’s a mess. Much like my whole life. I started in the midst of things, and now I’m telling some much needed backstory. I think my mind is just trying to piece together events or moments in a coherent yet jumbled manner. Good job brain.
Have I ever mentioned that I rarely outline? Outlining isn’t a skill I’ve acquired, much less mastered. So I don’t know what happens next. I don’t even have a concrete ending. I just sit down and write whatever comes to mind. Even if it doesn’t make sense. Especially when it doesn’t.
I love my characters. I just don’t know them as well as I’d like. Up until today I didn’t have a surname for my main character. I do now. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll find out what she does for a living. Because right now the only thing she’s doing is driving me insane.
These are nice problems to have. Don’t you think?