Writing a long tale can feel like an elaborate (and hopefully rewarding) road trip, using a map if you have one [or not], following directions, obeying the rules of the road. But the landscape looks a lot different if you get out, climb the hills occasionally, and look around. You might discover magic. Or something behind you, growling. (I never promised curiosity would always be safe. [insert cat joke here].)
This site, that is. Menu in mobile does nothing, sorry! Layout cramps. Content transmorgrification. All will be well soon.