The jitters through not writing have now got sooo bad I'm doing crazy unpredictable things. Things like ironing (don't faint). I even washed the kitchen floor for the second time in a fortnight (unheard of). If I don't pull myself together soon and get my nose back to the computer screen who knows where this might end? Cleaning out the wardrobes? Tidying up my desk?
I'm so totally not a panster by choice. I like to have my skeleton in place so I have the general roadmap of where we're going (even if my characters do constantly nip off into the bushes once we start for, um, inspiration). But so far all I have is the beginning, a bit sort of in the middle and a rough idea of the ending.
Which, as one of the witches has been telling me, is more than enough to get started with. Er, excuse me? Are you sure? Isn't that, like, scary?
So why am I getting all excited at the thought?!