I have reached a point in my work in progress where I can no longer see if the her objectives, his objectives and all the stuff that’s gone into forming their thoughts have coalesced into a gel in my brain. I can no longer tell if it’s working at all. In fact, I suspect that it isn’t. Her motivation isn’t strong enough. He’s just being dense in not seeing what the problem is. Too many secondary characters have their fingers in the pot. The whole thing is unraveling right here.
And this is where writing becomes an act of faith.
Despite my sneaking suspicion that what I am doing it not working, I’m going to forge ahead and finish. In a couple of weeks, I’ll return to the project and think “OMG! It all worked exactly like I wanted it too. It’s perfect!”
Really. It’ll happen. It’s happened before. It can happen again.