Sunday, May 29, 2011
I’m going to let you in on a secret. It’s my deepest most secretest desire in the whole entire world. The thing that I would love to do most in life is be an author. I want to spend my days writing novels. That’s what I want most out of life. And oh buddy, do I have a bazillion novel ideas. And they are FANTASTIC. Unfortunately, while I seem to have an extreme gift for coming up with brilliant plots and/or characters, my greatest weakness is actually sitting down and putting the whole thing on paper. At best I have a random collection of scattered scenes, nowhere near enough for a publish-worthy book. A few days ago my brother told me I didn’t need to keep coming up with more ideas, since I have so much work to do already with the ideas I have. But after pondering, I decided I disagree. I can’t help when genius strikes, so I might as well jot it down while I can. And many of these story ideas have a special meaning, associated with a certain event or certain emotion that if I don’t write down now, I might never be able to recreate again. Hopefully one day I’ll actually be able to do something with all of my ideas, but if not, at least I have a few blurbs that will entertain my posterity.