My book WAS going well, up until a week ago when it came to a screeching halt. I need to start being hard on myself, so progress journal it is. I'm writing the sequel to a fantasy novel I drafted last year. It has five POVs and three parts. I've written up to the end of part two, with some gaps, since I wasn't working equally on all five POVs. Now I want to go back and fill in the holes I left, and it's like pulling teeth. The end of part two had a series of scenes I've been waiting for ages to write. Like, I had one of them in mind all the way back when I was still planning the first book. It was so awesome finally getting to write them, and then in a way my brain was like, WOOHOO. WE'RE DONE. No, brain, we are not fucking done. Also, this is me trying to brainstorm half the time: me: Time to nail down the plot for the last third of this book. Or book three, even. What have you got for me? brain: Nothing, but... *sliding proposal across the table* Have you considered these six dozen possible scenarios in which the two leads might make out? me: THIS IS NOT HELPFUL. THEY DON'T DO THAT UNTIL LATER. brain: Are you sure? How about in the next scene? me: NO brain: What about the one after that? me: NO So anyway, the teeth-pulling chapters. There are three of them. And my goal is to get them drafted by the time I leave for vacation in 1.5 weeks. Ugh, as I type this it suddenly feels a little too ambitious. Two out of three...? Then, a nice break while I'm on vacation, and hopefully I will return with renewed enthusiasm and some ideas that don't involve making out. Or any other funny business.