The ideas flowed, but the coffee did not. I’d dash down half a page of notes in a burst of inspiration, then spend too long crossing out and adding in, scribbling notes in the margins. Then I’d reach for my cup and find its contents were on the wrong side of lukewarm.
“Another coffee, please!”
Character arc, exposition, !cliffhanger!, plot hole? – the faint glimpse of a possible resolution.
I ignored the coffee and reread my four-page outline.
I can get another cappuccino anytime. Brainstorming a sequel must be done when inspiration is hot…