Or, if you're really intent on figuring this out without a break, then look at your characters. Start at scene A, and ask what they would do next. Or jump over to the next scene you *are* sure of (C), and ask what your characters would do immediately prior, to bring them to that point. Don't worry about about connecting A to C, just try to figure out what B is - come at it from either angle. Once you have your B, then figure out if it connects on the other side. If not, perhaps you need more in between, like A.5 or B.5? Or, could it be that you're asking your characters to do something that it is out of character, such that A will never connect to C?

I looked back, saw my fingers half-way in the door frame, and started shouting the first freaked out angry words to come to mind. My friend who had accidentally closed the door on my hand just stared, shocked at the sight of my hand in the door, wondering if I could feel anything until I started freaking out. When I saw he wasn't doing anything, I kicked him and he opened the door, then we all went inside and got me a cup of ice to shove my battered fingers in. The cursing subsided after about five minutes.

anyway, back to the topic. I like the idea about taking a walk, and the idea about taking a week off. I think I'll do both, so that I can take that walk when I'm back up in Chicago. Like I said in my reintroductory post in "Please Introduce Yourself", Chicago is a great city to take a walk in.

The problem stems from a single line. I've narrowed it down to that. One paragraph I was still in the flow, then I pressed "enter", started a new paragraph, got one sentence down and then the superglue hit the engine. The problem with the problem, which makes it so infuriating, is that what's supposed to happen in this scene seems necessary for me. It seems like it has to happen, and after it happens I'll be able to continue.

The story is a ghost story inspired by the ghost stories of my neighborhood. There was a civil war skirmish on this land when it was farm land back then. I assume it was a little bit of conflict as the armies marched towards Knoxville and Campbell Station. Most of the residents have some little paranormal story.

In my story, when the foundation is being built for a new house, the remains of a rebel soldier are discovered. This sparks the interest of a kid living in the neighborhood. He sneaks out of his house, heads to the foundation, and starts digging, trying to find his own little artifact. He finds a bullet, hears a gunshot, then passes out. The kid is found the next morning, then grounded for a month. After he does his time, his father suggests at dinner that if his son is so interested, he would see if the archeologist in charge of the dig would meet with the boy and talk to him about what he does and what he's found. Then, a paranormal event happens to their house. A valuable item breaks because of it. The mother screams. Scene over. I move on to the next scene, explain that no one else had the same experience, then try to move on to the meeting with the professor, but the whole thing just crashed right there. I don't know how to move on.

[edit: added all the stuff about the story]

(Then again, I am perfectly aware that you might just be summarizing and breezing over those things in order to be brief in your post.)

Sorry, that was really off-topic and generally un-helpful. However, I don't feel I can add anything more to this topic than I already have. Umm...oops?

My nail-in-foot stories:
- When I was a toddler my older brother (by 10 years) was building a go-cart in the back yard and left boards with nails lying around. Do the math.
- In a 6th grade home-ec class I ran over my finger with a sewing machine needle. (Ok, not a nail, but way more painful - more nerves.)
- That same week I stepped on a nail in the basement. I have no idea how.

By the way, it hurts really bad to get shot in the Netherlands. You don't want to try it for yourself.

I usually don't fall out of buildings, though it has happened. Luckily, the reason I fell was because a sheet of underfloor hadn't been fastened down. Since I still had it underfoot, I was able to ride it down to a not terribly bone-jarring landing. On grass, rather than concrete.

Oh, and I've never been lucky enough to step on a single nail. My Dad used to build a lot of stuff, but he'd leave tools and such around the yard all the time. Sometimes things wouldn't fit together properly and boards would pop off after he tried to nail them. Thus, nail-filled pieces of wood would be all over the yard. I live in a desert where *sandstorms* occur fairly often and the sand would cover almost everything. The boards would be hidden beneath dirt, and here I would be running around wearing thin foam flip-flops. Ouch. My record was four nails at once. No tetanus shot, though, just hydrogen peroxide.

Also, I've never had the pleasure of falling out of a building, getting hit by a car, losing my head (literally), or had any serious accidents. The best I can offer is an arm broken while playing dodgeball in the 3rd grade, and having a barbell dropped on my face while bench-pressing for my weight-training class. Neither left permanent damage, and so I tend to disregard them.

That "stitches on my chin" experience really soured me on regular visits to hospitals and doctors. Nothing like not understanding what's going on, not having anyone bother to expain anything to you, being held down to a table by a bunch of strangers, and having something done to you that's incredibly painful, to teach you to avoid medical practitioners like the plague you may not recover from them if you avoid them. Since childhood, I've made maybe a half-dozen visits to doctors.

I may pay dearly for that neglect someday. Seems every couple of months I'm sick---incapacitatingly sick---with a combo of stomach upset and killer bowel movement. (Make fun! I dare you!) Maybe a visit to the doctor would clear that up...but the last time I mentioned it to one, he offered no answers or treatment (he was looking at my bad back at the time.)

[edited to change "hospital stay" (singluar) to "hospital visits" (plural)...then edited again to correct a typo.]

[This message has been edited by Robert Nowall (edited September 04, 2006).]

I had some lovely chats with a very good dentist about a certain root canal operation. He even gave me a little mirror so I could watch.

Regarding breaking a bone: ouch. The initial break is usually too much of a shock to feel very well, which is probably a good thing. If it's a significant break you may even pass out momentarily. (If that happens, you probably won't remember the actual event that broke the bone.) After that, it depends on the kind of break, but it's usually like a dull pain that's amplified until it feels sharp (if you can imagine that), and it throbs like mad. The throbbing is the worst part. If it were constant, it'd be easier to handle.

If you've ever sprained your ankle badly, you could draw upon that. I hear it's very similar, though I've never had a bad enough sprain to know.

After the bone is set, the tissue around the break tends to swell for a couple of days. It'll keep you from sleeping unless you've got some good painkillers or anti-inflammatory meds. A periodic 800mg of ibuprofen (four pills) helps a lot, but if you don't have any medication, prepare for a couple of sleepless nights.

I still don't know if my parents didn't believe in medication, didn't think of it, figured if the doctors didn't prescribe something I didn't need it, or were just trying to toughen me up. It sure sucked, though.