Yesterday morning, I awoke from a nightmare in which Jean Luc Picard was being viciously attacked by a giant hairy spider. He was screaming. . . Jean Luc I mean. The spider was quiet. But then it was so ugly and vile that it didn't need to make any noise to be frightening. It was just too awful to see our intrepid captain in such dire straits, so naturally I did the decent thing and woke up. Last I saw him, he was still alive thank goodness.
I sat bolt upright in bed, blinking. And unbidden, like some leftover dream flotsam, came two ideas for stories. Bam. Just like that. I grabbed my journal and began scribbling down a few thoughts. It was weird as all get out.
You know as a writer, one would like to answer the question, "So [insert famous author's name here], where do you get the ideas for your scintillating stories?" .... with some lengthy and noble dissertation about long walks by the sea, retreating to lonely cabins perched atop cliffs, month long fasts, or some other ascetic process. But all I get to report are cold sweats after dumb nightmares. And the story ideas have nothing whatsoever to do with spiders or handsome bald captains of space ships. More's the pity.
So now, I am once again flirting with the idea of doing the NaNoWriMo challenge. Actually, I admire anyone who has done it more than once. The first time I participated, I thought it would be 'fun'. I had no idea what unleashing my anal retentive 'I made a commitment' tendency would put me through in that 30 days. I still get shivers thinking about it.
It was like living in an alternate reality. (My favorite kind of fantasy).
But it's a lot more fun to READ about alternate realities than to LIVE in one let me tell you.
Whew!
But still....
I have this idea for a story.
And I don't want Jean Luc's suffering to have been in vain. I don't give a fig for the spider mind you. He can shrivel to a husk and I wouldn't care a whit. But the captain, that is a different matter all together.
(She always has to do all this emotional loading of ordinary run of the mill events. It is just too tedious. Do the thing, or don't do the thing. Let's just leave old baldy out of it shall we?)
I sat bolt upright in bed, blinking. And unbidden, like some leftover dream flotsam, came two ideas for stories. Bam. Just like that. I grabbed my journal and began scribbling down a few thoughts. It was weird as all get out.
You know as a writer, one would like to answer the question, "So [insert famous author's name here], where do you get the ideas for your scintillating stories?" .... with some lengthy and noble dissertation about long walks by the sea, retreating to lonely cabins perched atop cliffs, month long fasts, or some other ascetic process. But all I get to report are cold sweats after dumb nightmares. And the story ideas have nothing whatsoever to do with spiders or handsome bald captains of space ships. More's the pity.
So now, I am once again flirting with the idea of doing the NaNoWriMo challenge. Actually, I admire anyone who has done it more than once. The first time I participated, I thought it would be 'fun'. I had no idea what unleashing my anal retentive 'I made a commitment' tendency would put me through in that 30 days. I still get shivers thinking about it.
It was like living in an alternate reality. (My favorite kind of fantasy).
But it's a lot more fun to READ about alternate realities than to LIVE in one let me tell you.
Whew!
But still....
I have this idea for a story.
And I don't want Jean Luc's suffering to have been in vain. I don't give a fig for the spider mind you. He can shrivel to a husk and I wouldn't care a whit. But the captain, that is a different matter all together.
(She always has to do all this emotional loading of ordinary run of the mill events. It is just too tedious. Do the thing, or don't do the thing. Let's just leave old baldy out of it shall we?)