I’ve hit a wall. A big wall. A wall that might not be climbable.
It’s QFS. You know, the novel I’ve been working on for five years. I’ve recently been fiddling with it, trying different angles for when it may (will?) be met with rejection. Because I want to make it better. So I’ve been working on new ideas on how to make it more. Not longer, but deeper.
I suck at foreshadowing. Also at villains. And keeping secrets from readers. And plot. I’m terrible at figuring out how a plot and subplot go together.
So where am I with this wall? Well, I’m laying on the ground beneath it, muddy and tired from trying so hard to get up and over after all these other obstacles.
I’ve been trying to improve.I’ve been trying to learn about plotting and foreshadowing and getting better. Nothing.
Maybe it isn’t meant to be. Maybe I’m supposed to not write. I have this crisis every couple of years. And then I get back to it after a few months. But it’s so hard to keep facing the same walls when you’ve tried to learn how to get around them.
I don’t know. I’m stuck.