Took a writing break

Wednesday because I just got off a three day long depressive anxiety episode thing. Could not concentrate on anything to save my life. I was not allowed to write anything before work. I cleaned my kitchen instead, and it felt good, because it really, really needed it.

It was a quiet day at work, surprising for a Wednesday–usually that’s the day everyone is grumpy, or running around like the proverbial headless chicken. I broke my break to jot down a few lines between customers, and ended up thinking about the meeting story of two characters who are only referenced in the book, one of whom is already dead before the story starts (not a spoiler, the main character finds this out very early in the first chapter) and the other of whom does not show up in person until the third book.

And now I have to write this story. -_-; (Eventually. Not now. Even if I wrote it now, I wouldn’t be able to release it any time soon because it wouldn’t make much sense outside the context of the novels.)

BUT…I, uh…may have already jotted down some sections of dialogue? And made up some cultural details to work into the story, since it takes place mostly in a different country than the book…and decided some backstory stuff for both the characters that I hadn’t bothered to think up yet? Oops.

*bangs head against keyboard*

How did what was supposed to be a one-off story idea turn into this giant, epic thing with half a dozen spin off stories? No, don’t answer that, I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I can’t help overthinking everything.