The vague plot for Hide and See's sequel is solidifying in my head. It's not concrete by any means but I don't think it can be until I'm actually writing it. I've done firm chapter plans before, right at the start with a different book and have ended up having to change it halfway through because of how the story evolves organically.
On the whole, I've enjoyed this planning process, even if there have been points when I've thought of an idea, been really pleased with it, then realised a few minutes later that it is in fact complete bollocks. I suppose it's better that I figured that before I wrote it but it can be frustrating sometimes to look at my notes and think 'how could I ever have thought that was a good idea?!'
For all that the planning process has been good, I feel like I really need to start writing now. I'm getting that grumpiness I feel when I haven't written for a while. The problem with this, though, is when I'm in this grumpy mood my head tells me that everything I'd write is going to be shite anyway so I might as well not bother and that I should just wallow in my unproductive mediocrity and eat a lot of chocolate. While I do not on principle disagree with the chocolate idea, I desperately need to not listen to the voice that said it would be pointless to write anything. Because no writing equals even more grumpiness. And so on and so forth.
So this weekend my head is playing host to an epic battle between two sections of my brain: one that produces the words and one that says I ought to just stay in bed and watch all those recorded episodes of The Mentalist which I need to catch up on.
In other news, I'm reading John Green's The Fault in Our Stars and hope to write a review of it when I'm done.