I had an epiphany, at lunch time, about my current short story project. I have an ending, now, a nasty bull’s-eye to aim my narrative at.
What’s more, a lot of things I’d already sprinkled into the story have come into focus, especially the doctrine of true names. The protagonist has a solution to his problem, but he’s so desperate to avoid it that he’s unwilling to admit it to anyone, even himself.
I wonder if I knew the ending all along, too, and didn’t want to admit it to myself.