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Hello! I've Just Found a Lump of Coal

So, I am home writing on a rainy day, but an objective observer might be forgiven for missing the fact.

Someone looking in the peephole would have seen me plotting (with lovely large pads of paper and sophisticated software) and researching (with online Victorian treatises concerning the care and feeding of the Victorian hunting horse) -- though that someone would not have seen me actually grinding away on actual paragraphs.

In my experience, novels benefit greatly from such things as plotting and horse-related research.  This much is inarguably true.  But, in my opinion, what novels really cannot do without are actual paragraphs -- sometimes dozens and dozens of the things.  

(You may begin to see the outline of my problem).

As the inestimable Peter Cooke said of coal-mining:  "You're given complete freedom to do what you like, an absolute free hand, provided you get out a two-ton of coal every day."