John Gardner once sagely observed that writing exercises were good practice because they were like the writing life, much of which consists of inventing stuff not because you particularly want to but because it is vitally important for what you really want to write.
All the girls are putting their heads together for their project. What shall they do, what shall they do? It's crucial. It's their master project and required to graduate. (They could work on ones of their own, but aren't that silly.)
I set out the hero on the first page of his story, and I realize I don't introduce the adventure of the forest until the second page, and there's no real incident on the first.
I realize I have a natural point for the heroine to reveal something to the hero except that -- he has to learn it later, when he has a powerful reaction to it. There are a couple of things that might shut her up but only if properly deployed.
I put in that something the heroine has to do is a test, and she won't be allowed to study unless she passes, and I realize this has to be mentioned before half way through the test. She would be positively threatened with it.
