Secret awesome thing about SF/F cons: sometimes they jar something just slightly loose in your head, and it clicks into something else, and then it basically does the mental equivalent of assembling a Jenga tower from disparate pieces.
Which is what happened in the "Fantasy and Progress" panel on Saturday. I had to go and lurk outside the hotel in the bushes for half the next panel, trying simultaneously to not choke on cigarette smoke and to scribble furious notes.
What I got: not a short story. Something better, in some ways: a much clearer sense of the end of this novel. How a lot of these pieces leap up and fit them together, or rather how I have been fitting them together, leaving them dangling in midair sometimes just waiting for another piece to be slid in underneath them.
Technically, I had a lot of the bits floating around in my head before that, but that was the point where it all cohered.
Also, I got the situation/setup for a sequel, should I wish to write one. Unfortunately, that would probably be the interesting
one. I don't think I'll get lured away from this one--mostly because I'd need so very many things from the end of this novel to really properly set up said sequel.
From yesterday (to 222) and today (the rest):
My plan with the rest of this draft is to write as much as possible before the end of the month, and then finish it in July. My other plan for July is to start tearing apart the novel I wrote last summer, in hopes that I can defeat my fear of Big Scary Novel Revisions and actually start thinking about how to change/fix it.
(Edited, to mention: I achieved a longtime dream of decadence today. There's one piece in the Walker sculpture garden that looks like they chopped up a lovely bit of fairytale medieval-fantasy castle with oodles of windows and set it at angles to itself, and I've always thought it would be a fine idea to sit in one of these window-sills in the sunlight and eat lunch. And lo, today I did just that, mostly on accident--I was on the bus going past on my way home, and it was lunchtime, and I thought "oh!".
(Achieving such dreams of decadence, I think, isn't quite the same if you deliberately set out to do them.)