On Working It Out

I’d gotten stuck on an outline. I’d written myself into a corner.

I saw the final scenes, clear as day. I knew the final scene inside and out. The problem was…

I didn’t know how to get there.

I’d reached a point, maybe sixty percent of the way into the story, where I couldn’t “see” where to go to connect with those final scenes.

I think I’ve figured it out.

I think I know now how to get to where I want to go. It means some backtracking, but then the path is there.

It’s like crossing the Rocky Mountains on the way to Oregon.

I think, I just think, I might be able to see the light. Err, the Pacific Ocean, I mean.

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