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)
Me:…
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.