I wrote the final scene of my nano novel last night.
I’d been stalling for two days, tearing my hair out about it, having no clue how I was ever going to get my boys out of an impossible situation. None of my options were realistic or believable. I didn’t believe them, anyway, so I couldn’t write them.
But I forced myself to put pen to paper (the handwriting process makes my brain work differently), and without looking at the scene I was in the middle of writing before I stopped, I took it up in the middle, and within about 200 words, I ended my book.
And now, because I know how it ends, I know how to fix all the weird bits throughout, I know everyone’s motivation, I know how to fill in the gaps, I know WHY the damn king sends his son and heir off with his boyfriend in the first place!
I feel so good. Now, whether this is a cop-out ending or not (which it could be perceived to be), I don’t care. I feel like it’s the truth. That’s why I was struggling the entire time, because I was striving for something that in my mind, just wasn’t possible.