Every once in a while, I find that I need to become a hermit. By that, I mean that I want to shut myself off in my house, lay in my bed with the covers pulled up to my chin, a cup of tea on the table next to me, and listen to whatever music I want to at any given moment.
I do some of my best thinking this way. I reflect on whatever it is that has be thinking that I need to hide away, or I read, or I search the internet for silly things, like blogs and new jewelry and clothing I'll never buy.
Or I'll write. For some reason, laying in my bed with a couple candles at my side and Kings of Leon or David Gray or Patty Griffin or John Mayer or...you get the idea...in my ears, I'll come up with things to write that I just need to get onto paper or the computer screen.
The latest one is a tangled web that if I were more confident with my writing, I would consider making it my first novel. It's quite Nicholas Sparks-ian, but I think it's pretty original. I started writing it, and I'm excited about it.
And now comes the hard part.
The hard part is doing justice to the original idea.
Finding the right words to uphold the integrity of the plot. One wrong turn - a poorly placed paragraph - can change the entire outlook of the story, and that's a shame. It's happened to me before, but I actually ended up liking the ending.
This idea, however, might be the most original one I've ever had, and I'm a little afraid that it won't stay that way.
I'll keep you posted...
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