My brain lied to me

Have you ever had that feeling where you've got a brilliant idea, and in your head it's wondrous, but when you go to explain it to someone, suddenly that Van Gogh masterpiece is all stick figures and scribbles?

I thought I had a plot for books 4–6 figured out, all pretty much there, and it just needed writing down. But, in a twist surprising no one except me, Chris the Couch Sloth of Plotting and Phanta the Phoenix of Pantsing have again been doing nothing useful, and what I thought was a great plan in my brain is actually…

Me: I need a plan for book 4.

Chris: (lets out a loud snore from the couch)

Phanta: Oooh! Oooh! I've got one.

Me: Great! What is it?

Phanta: (mysteriously silent)


Phanta: (mumbling) orrushon n aell

Me: What?

Chris: I think it's 'corruption in Abell'

Phanta: Yeah!

Me: Oh, cool. How does that go down?

Phanta: (pours wine)

Chris: I don't think we know.

Phanta: (shakes head while sipping a glass of pinot)

Me: Well, what am I supposed to do with that?

Chris, firing up the laptop and cracking a packet of chocolate-coated peanuts: I'm on it.

Me: I'll come back in a few weeks, then.

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