author: Nicole J. LeBoeuf

...is when you realize that what you thought was an idea for a novel was actually just an idea for an opening scene and a snippet of Act II drama.

I'm there. I am so there. My character is now on a bus home after his initial disturbing brush with fate, alone at last with his thoughts... which means I have to figure out what these thoughts of his are.

And no, I can't just skip over to the aforementioned Act II drama. Said drama really ought to be informed by those things I learn by writing the intervening bits of story — things like what my character does with his every day life, who his friends are, what his family is like, who especially will miss him when it comes out that he can never go home to Denver again.

I don't really know this boy. I don't know what it's like to miss Denver either — I'm too busy angsting over what it means to miss New Orleans. And I haven't the first clue about being a pre-law student! I've studiously avoided anything to do with the law all my life!

As usual, there's an appropriate writers' cliche for First Scene Slump: Write it to find out. Several hundred words later, I'll know something.