I hope this is true. I really hope this is true. I really hope this is true for my writing in particular, because it seems to be what happens.
See, this entirely new character just showed up in my story. While I sort of suspected something like this might happen, I admit that I was hoping it wouldn’t because everything just got more complicated. My deadline-motivated, achiever-minded self panics when all hope of a nice, clear route to the destination fades. The bratty little kid with the good ideas sticks her tongue out at that other self and reminds her that the whole idea is to write something worth reading.
Of course, the bratty little kid isn’t sure what to do with the new character either. She might just let him sit there in the cave in his beanbag chair while she goes off to play with some of the other characters, coming back when he becomes necessary to the action again. Then again, she might throw spitballs at him until he does something. I just don’t know.
Stalling, whether it takes the form of reading more of Moby Dick or of typing a theoretically-useful blog post, won’t answer the question. I’ll have to get out the notebook, uncap the pen, and move it over the paper to find out. This is known as “the hard way.” It’s also the only way.
Off to be carefully disorderly…