I’ve got a bad case of the Week Two Blahs.
My novel taunts me from another window. “Hey Sarah!” I hear it saying. “I kind of suck! I’m getting a little rambly and nothing much of anything has happened in about three chapters!”
I try to ignore it, knowing that it’s wrong—I just introduced my love interest and had a dramatic injury! Things are happening!—but it’s hard, in Week Two, not to listen to your novel. “Your main character just collapsed in front of her future love interest’s house and you couldn’t even make that interesting! You’re terrible at this! Maybe you should go knit something and play with your cat, because obviously there’s no point in you ever writing anything again!”