So you remember how I told you a while back about how I'm writing a book?
“Oh my GAWD, Holmes, is this the post where you tearfully admit that you’ve given up on your novel and then offer up a series of lame excuses for your lameness?”
Hell naw. The book’s still bumping along, slower’n I’d like, but steady, punctuated by just a few creative freak-outs, a few moments of lost perspective, of feeling like I’ve trapped myself in a maze from which there is no escape. But it’s going, and for the most part I’m finding it...not enjoyable, exactly. Let’s go with rewarding. In summary, It Will Happen.
But this post isn’t about the novel. This is about competing creative interests that emerge while in the midst of such a long-term project. And in the end, it’s a challenge for any of you who care to take it.
You see, just because I’ve got my creative energies focused on one thing doesn’t mean that the ideas stop coming. If anything, they come faster and in greater number. Where once I might find just a few mushrooms rising up out of the soil, I now find a whole freaking village of them bursting from the earth’s surface.
Of course, they don’t all taste so great, no matter how you saute ‘em. Most of them wither and die and fall right out of memory. But some capture my notice so well that I actually pluck them up and place them in my basket to be put to use later. That is, I write them down in a list. Ideas for later.
One such idea occurred to me the other day, so I pulled up the list and added it. I realized that it had been a while since I’d read through my past ideas, so I took a few minutes to scroll through it, and I found...
“What the ffff...?”
Most of the items in the list contained enough description to make sense. In some cases, I’d even added some notes to remind my future self what past self had meant. But there were a few where I had absolutely no idea what I was thinking. Was I drunk at the time? Sleepwriting? No idea. But just because their original meaning is lost, it doesn’t mean they’re useless.
So this is the challenge part of the post. I’m going to list several of these ideas below. The challenge is to pick one or two, or hell, pick all of them, whatever you like. Take it and run with it. Write something with it. A story, a poem, a script, a comic, a Grammy-winning country song, the next club hit. When it’s done, put it out there somewhere. And if you happen to think about it, hit me with a link to it in the comments section so I can go check it out.
And now, what you’ve all been waiting for: The Ideas of Forgotten Meaning:
“Oh my GAWD, Holmes, is this the post where you tearfully admit that you’ve given up on your novel and then offer up a series of lame excuses for your lameness?”
Hell naw. The book’s still bumping along, slower’n I’d like, but steady, punctuated by just a few creative freak-outs, a few moments of lost perspective, of feeling like I’ve trapped myself in a maze from which there is no escape. But it’s going, and for the most part I’m finding it...not enjoyable, exactly. Let’s go with rewarding. In summary, It Will Happen.
But this post isn’t about the novel. This is about competing creative interests that emerge while in the midst of such a long-term project. And in the end, it’s a challenge for any of you who care to take it.
You see, just because I’ve got my creative energies focused on one thing doesn’t mean that the ideas stop coming. If anything, they come faster and in greater number. Where once I might find just a few mushrooms rising up out of the soil, I now find a whole freaking village of them bursting from the earth’s surface.
Of course, they don’t all taste so great, no matter how you saute ‘em. Most of them wither and die and fall right out of memory. But some capture my notice so well that I actually pluck them up and place them in my basket to be put to use later. That is, I write them down in a list. Ideas for later.
One such idea occurred to me the other day, so I pulled up the list and added it. I realized that it had been a while since I’d read through my past ideas, so I took a few minutes to scroll through it, and I found...
“What the ffff...?”
Most of the items in the list contained enough description to make sense. In some cases, I’d even added some notes to remind my future self what past self had meant. But there were a few where I had absolutely no idea what I was thinking. Was I drunk at the time? Sleepwriting? No idea. But just because their original meaning is lost, it doesn’t mean they’re useless.
So this is the challenge part of the post. I’m going to list several of these ideas below. The challenge is to pick one or two, or hell, pick all of them, whatever you like. Take it and run with it. Write something with it. A story, a poem, a script, a comic, a Grammy-winning country song, the next club hit. When it’s done, put it out there somewhere. And if you happen to think about it, hit me with a link to it in the comments section so I can go check it out.
And now, what you’ve all been waiting for: The Ideas of Forgotten Meaning:
- Beer: put a crazy straw in it.
- Strawberry: you wouldn't eat a head.
- The view out the window during some afternoon doggy-style.
- The Fat Fuck and his sidekick Stab Face.
1 comment:
Awesome idea!
I'm gonna need some of these "mushrooms" you make reference to...
;)
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