I get lost in the middle.
Doubt sets in during these messy, muddled chapters where I have all these loose threads that might or might not come together. In the beginning the vision seemed so clear. The story and conflict was immediate. I plotted the chapters and knew where I was headed. The journey began.
I wrote the ending. Holding the tension line taut is easier for me when both ends are firmly anchored.
Writing the dark night of the soul for my characters becomes my own dark night. Is this giant octopus that I’m wrestling to put into a box really a worthwhile project, or is it a total disaster? I stumble. Why did I want that scene there? What was I thinking? Wait, I should stop, circle back, and reread everything again for the fifth time.
Keep writing. Keep moving forward. That’s my mantra when all seems lost and I can’t tell for sure which way to go. Follow the plan. Listen to the characters if they come up with good ideas. They will lead me through maze of uncharted territory.
I know I should trust my process. It’s just scary in the middle. What if this is the time when all will be lost? What if this time no hero will save the day?
It’s this worry that presses me forward. I need to find out how it will all work out.