I’m completely reconciled to the fact that I have no conscious clue where this story is going. One huge factor in reconciling me to this is how clear it is that my subconscious has the map and knows how to use it. This morning, as I dozed on the bus, Ennevel’s hinge — and with it, her whole story — bloomed in my mind. Bloomed, opened up, revealed itself. I wasn’t even thinking about the story; I was listening to the architecture of some song. The craziest thing is that when I opened up the scene to make the changes to accomodate the new insight, the clues and hints were already there.

This just goes to prove that I’m right to trust myself and not get myself in a bunch when I’m unsure. If I relax while I wait for the little nudges that say, “Do this” — like the one that said, “Write Ennevel” — and if I pay attention to what they say when they come — the way I did when I started to write Ennevel even though I had no ideas for the scene, then the answers will come and the story will move forward.

Vindication, pure and simple.


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