A new sort of way? (please read!)

Through the writing of my book and avid reading of the classics I believe I have found out a way to efficiently and consistently write without stalling about ideas or getting agravated by a writer's block... I know its not exactly "new" and a lot of good authors already know this but I believe it can be very effective and actually fun! Here, I typed it out:

Paragraph numbering, selection and consistent direction in writing: (title and important details in bold)
Paragraph categories which pertain to only one given genre are necessary. The different paragraphs may include: Dialogue, action, description of setting, description of character, action from personal character point of view, action melding description. These inclusions can also be intertwined in accordance to how long you wish the paragraph to be. Remember that 1-10 paragraphs of dialogue is essential before making a transition to action...from action go to description for instance or you can go back and forth:
“Whitney, I must go for now but I shall be back later.” Carl said.
“But don’t!” she implored, grasping his long, bent fingers.
“I must.” his hand slipped from hers and he traversed the garden, not once looking back.
(Transition to description from dialogue).
Here is how you write a book..
Chapter (#)-----------Chapter Title---------- (# of paragraphs) (# of sentences)
(This example is one paragraph based on only description, but it can apply to any of the paragraph inclusions above)

1—paragraph. (description of setting) (15 sentences)
paragraph points (p.p.) - The setting of the sun (3)
the trees, the path, and bushes (5), bees and creatures (3), birds and song (4)
(My example paragraph wasn't that great but I was in a rush.. I just wanted to establish direction and continuity)
example:
The sun set gradually on the western front. Its glowing flare could barely be perceived through the mask of encroaching darkness. It dispatched a mallow scarlet dash, like an artists painting implements, across the sky which mixed, in the incrementally darkening blue, made a pristine contrast. The trees, which during the day appeared bright green and gargantuan, now masked themselves in the dusk of the dark sky. Their branches, which by day were bedecked with leaves of green appeared to fall off and descend like feathers on the soft and slightly uprooted earth. The caramel path of uprooted earth cut along on an indirect course through trees and bushes and branched into various destinations and locales. The roots of the trees grew deep in the ground and intertwined with the roots of the bushes. The bushes were of a ghostly spherical shape as if they had been constantly trimmed, for a clutter of its twigs surrounded its roots and accumulated slightly along the path. The arboreal objects trembled but slightly. Creatures which wished not to be ubiquitous burrowed nooks into the ground. Those who didn’t mind, as they were the dominant predators, feigned sleep on the path and kept a wary eye out for prey. The bees hovered in nocturnal slumber, fluttering from flower to flower as if by instinct not notion, and dropping pollen gently on the path to their bright preferable roses. The nightingale rested on the uppermost branch of a tree and burst into sonorous, melodramatic song. Its lungs were puffed and pompous flowing each tune to the extent of its capability; the song which put the creatures of sleep and the feigned ones to rest. It lasted for but a moment and then drifted away into a sort of calm wheeze. The lullaby singer fluttered off and all was quiet.