I was thinking about my work-in-progress before I fell asleep, and it was on my mind when I woke in the morning. I scribbled seven pages on how to escalate the conflict for my protagonist’s love interest who escaped her kidnapper but is lost in the forest.
She hears a chainsaw, and she’s following the sound to where she’ll find people and rescue—but a ravine is between her and them. She’s injured and physically unable to climb down, across, and back up the other side, so she must find another way. I wrote such a high energy, physically active scene that I sprained my wrist.*
I’m on a writer’s “high” even though the pages are on top of a stack of papers that have yet to be typed into the manuscript.
(Dirty little secrets… After my first and second books were published, there were still scribbled pages of notes that hadn’t been typed up. *The sore wrist is really from yesterday’s heavy yardwork.)
