I jump the gun.
Illegally in some Southern states.
I get a couple of characters in my head, grind out a general plot, obsess over a setting and then jump the starter’s gun. While most writers are still in their starter’s blocks working on the all-important opening scene, I’m 50 yards down the track, unattractively winded and face-planting in the climax.
This must stop now.
Post-note: Uh, yeah. We’ll see how this goes. I already feel a face-plant coming.