Have you ever started something, estimated how long it would take (a hour or so) and realized later that you’d been working on it for over a week? I walked into this scene in my novel with a clear idea of who, where, when, what, and even why…Jamie in the police department the next day interrogates a suspect in the shooting that opened the novel and gets a message from his CO that sends him off to City Hall so he can a) get a little forward momentum on both cases and b) have the real job and the undercover one intersect briefly. But writing the scene in the interrogation room has been slow, slow, slow. I put a place holder in (literally “They have an exchange”) and jumped ahead…and have come back, and back, and back. Is it because I, like Jamie, have come to rely on Coal, his brash and shady partner to move the action forward? I do think Jamie’s got some changin’ to do over the course of this novel. His partner and his love interest can’t be the impetus for the action any more.
If I say I’m going to finish this scene by the end of the morning, am I kidding myself?
What do you do when you’re stuck in an endless scene?