Idea Overload

I love writing.

But occasionally I get a little carried away.

You see, I’ll start off with the best of intentions. As I drift off into the Neverland of dreams, suddenly the greatest idea in the world will come to me. And I will think, Yes! This is the story I must write!

And sometimes it is (though not necessarily the story that I must write right now). Other times it’s just the overtired brain vomit of someone all hopped up on candy canes and gingerbread men – A steampunk mystery romance picture book about a turnip and a dragon who needs a root canal. Best. Idea. Ever.

Not quite.

But if in the light of day it still seems to have merit, I’ll buckle down and start writing random snippets of information. Character names. Background info – like what he did for his eighth birthday or how she got that tiny scar between her thumb and index finger – stuff that will never actually be in the main story, but is good for me to know. Then I’ll start writing actual sentences. Now, they’re probably not very good sentences this first time around, but they are indeed a string of words that make sense together. Which is the first big hurdle. Sentences can be tweaked later into something that’s actually good, but only if they are already there for the tweaking. If I try to craft the most perfect, glorious, divine sentence in round one, I’m never getting to round two.

Anyway, I’ll get all hunkered down, writing cap securely on (for which I favor the fedora, by the way). And suddenly, the proverbial bolt of lightning will strike once again. Another idea! Awesome! Now I have something I know I can work on when I finish this one. But what if idea two is better? Maybe I should focus on that one, come back to idea one later. But I like idea one. Still, idea two sounds great. Maybe I should try to write both.

And then, as though I’ve set up metal rods in my brain, the lightning strikes come down full force. So many ideas! I love them all! Yeah, turnips and dragons with dental problems! That one wasn’t so bad! I should write them all! I should write all the things!

ALL THE THINGS.

Ten minutes later the Roomie finds me curled up under the dining room table, shaking and muttering nonsensically to myself about how I think I should be the snow-time wizard and won’t give the marshmallows back until I am. And other equally disturbing assertions.

Over time, my brain does eventually unfry itself (for the most part. There’s always a residual singe). And I cautiously return to writing. Ideas still keep coming, but now the most attention I will give them is to write them down on a napkin, or my hand, or the Roomie’s face – whatever’s closest. After that, if they keep nagging me, I punch those ideas right in the face. Not now, ideas! We can be friends later! (See, residual singeing.)

So, in conclusion, I haven’t completely mastered the discipline of focus yet. But, worst comes to absolute worst, you can probably expect something from me in the draco/root vegetable genre at some point.

Now I must buckle down and focus on my one (hear that brain? ONE.) current work in progress.

Tonight’s Christmas Viewing:

• Batman Returns
• “Chuck Versus the Santa” (Chuck)
• “Afternoon Delight” (Arrested Development)