Chapter Eleven is up, including a brief discussion of how my ideas affect my writing.
Yesterday I had a minor writing crisis. I got to the point in Ichabod where I realized that the ending–as I had plotted it–didn’t work. I hadn’t thought through some of the implications of various events. So I had to switch gears from writing mode to planning mode, and that was something that proved more difficult than it should have been, really. I guess I just had gotten myself into this nice little rut where I could just out my head down and barrel through the story, and I was enjoying that so much that when I ran into an obstacle, it left me dazed for a bit. No worries, though. I’ve fixed the outline, and I like it even more than I did before. Problem solved.