There’s this weird feeling when I realize I’ve written myself into a corner, where the problems can’t be evaded. A yogi couldn’t stretch through this. And I’m merely flailing. I needed to establish arcs, flesh out details, and establish cast 50k words ago.
And then I think, oh right, second draft time. That’s what this is: time for a second draft. There’s a term for it.
And all the tension, frustration, and questions collapse into anticlimax.