Working on the middle section of my story is not as fun as I told myself it would be while working on the first third. I’m not sure what I was thinking when I wrote the first draft of Life of a Suburban Unicorn, but the whole middle of the novel is operating on Elizabeth willingly submitting herself to the will of the villain…and she’s just not going to do that.

So here I am, picking at Chapter Nine with the same drudgery as I picked at the first third. I love the shiny new chapters so much better than the old ones, but I don’t love the slowness with which I have to write them. I can’t just slap on a quick band-aid and rush to the next scene. I learned this with my first novel.

It’s so frustrating. I can look back and see how nice what I’ve written before is, but than I look ahead and…and…some of what needs written isn’t even there. -.- What was I thinking writing this rough draft? It’s like swiss cheese when I wanted Mozarella.