Inspiration is a curious thing. It comes from anywhere and occasionally ties your brain in a knot before disappearing like smoke on the breeze. This weeks offering originated when we were on holiday recently and I put bare feet onto one of those rough sisal carpets.
The story has gone into my ‘oddball work in progress’ file tagged to a strange visual image of dust and close up of insect debris in an empty room that came to me as I felt the roughness under my feet. Haven’t even decided what sort of story it’s going to be.
Science fiction brain says ‘dimensional transition gone wrong’ or ‘temporal prisoner reflects’. Fantasy brain says ‘depressed alcoholic meets Caspar Hauser’. Oddball sense of humour says ‘Why not both’? I’ll see where it goes over the next month or so. If I don’t get distracted.
Still blocked over ‘Darkness between the stars’, the last book in the ‘Stars’ series I began writing in 2005. Not because I’m stuck for ideas, but rather can’t decide which way I want the story to go. There are just too many narrative lines flapping around. Lots of good dialogue and plot points but the whole project has become a monkey on my back. I’m compelled to finish, but can’t decide how.
For a writer, life is something that can to get in the way of the business of writing. For me there are still too many chores to do, bits of our new home to finish, things to make for the garden and sheds or interruptions just as my thoughts settle down.
The work is not the problem. I can push out two or three thousand words a day, but it’s the direction I’m having issues with.