When I talk about sagging middles, I am usually talking about one of my works in progress. I don’t know why, but the middle is always the hardest part of the book for me to write. I bog down, wonder why I thought the idea was so great to begin with. I begin to question my characters and their motivations, second-guessing myself. Its weird—the first part of the book usually flies. The last part usually flies because I am on a deadline and I have to wrap it up. But that sagging middle takes the most work to de-sag it.

Working through that middle takes a lot of mulling over, muddling, and really crappy writing before I have something I can work with. Once I have something down on paper, and I can go back and trim it, tighten it up, tone it into an appealing middle you’ll want to read.

Wait…let me back up. I love starting a new book. My head is swimming with characters and ideas and a book that sounds so fabulous to me that I can’t imagine how it won’t be a huge bestseller. I can’t wait to get started. People and things become obstacles to opening that new document and getting it all down. Life (husband, dogs, bills) is an intrusion on what I suddenly believe is a true artist’s mind. I think to myself, “Can’t you understand that I have a genius book in me? Can’t you understand that I don’t have time for dinner or laundry or sex or anything else? That I have to get it down on paper NOW?”

Miracle of miracles, he and the dogs say, “Yeah, okay. Go for it.”