Back in college I took an art history class and we studied a lot of Leonardo da Vinci’s work. The one thing that stuck with me was my professor saying how so much of Leonardo’s work remained in his head and never made it on to the canvas. He explained that the man was a super Genius, that he would imagine his work so perfectly, so completely, so flawlessly in his mind, that to put it down on paper was an act in redundancy.
So as I sit here, 60,000 words into my sequel, the whole book imagined so perfectly, so completely, so flawlessly in my head that it is laborious and redundant to put the final bits down on paper, I can’t help but think to myself, OH MY GOSH! I MUST BE A FREAKIN’ GENIUS!!!!!!
That’s the only rational explanation. Please don’t offer any other possibilities. I’ve got my fingers in my ears and I’m saying LALALALALALALALALALALALA as loudly as I can.
(Sigh. Ok. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.)