Frustration, No Words and Fewer Ideas
The Chapter 7 Conundrum
Specifically, I’ve hit a wall around Chapter 7. Every time I open the file, I just stare at the screen. I know what’s supposed to happen—there should be a big reveal about the history of the hidden magical faction—but the scene feels laboured and dull.
After wrestling with it for days, I finally had a moment of brutal honesty: Chapter 7 doesn't work because Chapter 6 doesn't earn it.
Chapter 6 is where the protagonist, Sam, has a tense, quiet conversation with his old school friend. It’s meant to be a moment of reacquaintance, a catch-up and a way to help the protagonist see the wider issues. However, I think I’ve been using it as a clumsy information dump, trying to wedge in details that should have been spread out much earlier. When I try to write Chapter 7's big event, it feels unearned because the emotional groundwork from the preceding chapter is shaky.
This is the sneaky way novels fight back: when the foundation is weak, the entire structure above it starts to lean.
Declaring a Strategic Retreat
I realised the only sensible thing to do was declare a strategic retreat.
I closed the file. I didn't save any changes. I didn't promise myself I'd look at it the next day, or the day after that. I just walked away. It has been three weeks now.
Sometimes, our brains, when pushed too hard on a specific problem, just keep spinning the same answer. The only way to get a fresh perspective is to give your subconscious time to process it, far away from the laptop.
My break isn't about avoiding the work; it’s about respecting the process. It's about letting the noise of "I hate this chapter" settle so I can hear the quieter voice of "Try this instead."
I’m currently focusing on reading more urban fantasy to refill the well and remind myself what great atmosphere and plotting feel like. I'm also planning to outline Chapter 6 and 7 again from scratch to strip them back to their core purpose.
If you’re stuck on your current WIP, remember this: A break is not a failure; it’s a necessary tool. The story isn't going anywhere. It will be there, waiting, a little wiser and more patient, when you return.
