All those people who are all "oh my god I just get so INSPIRED, and I pour out an entire novel in a week!" are either lying, or writing REALLY terrible novels (also known as "first drafts").
As I've mentioned a-multiple-of-five times, I'm pretty OCD, so I tend to write fairly clean drafts. They're probably not working all that well, and there are definitely huge sections that should be cut, or added, or moved, or just BETTER, but the prose usually makes sense, and grammar has been employed.
This means I'm not--will never be--a true "burst of inspiration" type. In fact, I think that type has been made up solely for magazine-bios and romantic ideas of life in a garret. I don't care how good you are (or even how much mess you're willing to tolerate in your drafts), there comes a point in a book where you just say "wait, NOW what?"
Well, maybe not. Maybe you outline way more thoroughly than I do (in which case, there HAS to be a moment in the outlining when you find yourself in the same mentally-anguishing boat, right? RIGHT???). I, at least, have reached that point in every book, usually somewhere smack in the middle of "this is just starting out, and it's full of promise, and great ideas, and I totally know my characters" and "and now for my spectacular climax!"
Sorry, that sounded a little dirty, but writing is kind of a perverse process at the best of times, right?
I'm hitting it now in the new novel I'm working on. The "oh god, but what comes next? Which thread is most important? How in god's name am I going to get them from this moment to that one quickly, and effectively, and plausibly, and ideally with a smattering of really-intelligent-metaphors thrown in for effect?" point.
I know I'll get through it, and edit things into slightly better shape than whatever I come up with to bridge the gap, but god, it's disorienting.
Author-friends: what do you do when you feel suddenly lost in the middle of a sea of words of your own making?
Besides pour yourself a bourbon drink, obviously...
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