I hope I can talk about this without spoilers or too much conjecture:
I just wrote the pivotal scene in book two. It's a scene that I have dreaded writing since I outlined the book. I thought of every way to avoid it, but after a long talk with Netta I knew it's what had to happen.
I have danced around this scene with an adroitness I didn't know I possessed. I have put it off, distracted myself, written around it. Over time the writing began to circle closer and closer to it, like one of those funnels you drop a coin into. Yesterday morning the coin finally fell. I woke up with the scene in my head. I started crying.
I wrote the scene yesterday. I spent today editing and expanding it. I've cried off and on throughout. To get this miserable about things I've made up in my head strikes me as a sign that perhaps I really am mad. But there it is.
I'm more than halfway through the book; because of this scene I've been writing out of order, and now that it's finally written I feel that things are falling into place. I just wish they didn't have to fall into place like this. But they do.