Fairytale sex was one of the search results that led some poor soul to this website; I’ll imagine they were disappointed.
But aside from that lascivious transgression, I wanted to touch upon the infuriating truth that inspiration has been striking at the most inopportune times of late, troubled by pixie muses hellbent on having their fun.
It’s either in the midst of a busy workweek where I want to do very little else except collapse into my bed and sleep until crafty gnomes steal away my dreams, or it’s during rush hour traffic and I haven’t the pen, paper, or juggling ability to jot down notes while avoiding the myriad of daredevils who feel that slaloming through cars like a god damned bobsled is acceptable.
And being that I don’t want to be a death statistic, I refrain from emptying my thoughts mid-drive.
With that, I’ve developed a predilection for planning entire stories in my head – characters, plot, setting, twists, turns, dialogue – almost every inch being hashed and rehashed until I feel comfortable enough to put it down on paper. Although this tends to be an ongoing issue because I end up with dozens of stories in my head and none of them written, like some sort of fantastical story graveyard.
And I will make that videogame looking world come to life one day. One day I tell you!
All of this mind molding has to harvested rather soon, or risk melding stories and characters until it’s nothing but a mound of flesh colored mush. Which I think is both the delight and tragedy of having a creative mind – simultaneously fighting to release the stories within while clawing at the back of your eyes with frustration at how terrible your writing seems to look.
But the one thing to remember is that you can’t get better at writing if you don’t write; and, you can’t tell a story if you don’t open your mouth or your mind.