When I first contemplated writing stories I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to come up with new ideas. It almost stopped me from trying my hand at this art. Fear is too powerful in my life sometimes.
However, now that the ideas are coming, they are coming too fast. I have tons of ideas for great stories: an awesome children’s series, gripping suspense stories (my writers group knows what a chicken I am and Kirk mentioned once that I could probably write a pretty freaky thriller . . .), a sweeping epic, several cool YA’s, and a hilarious non-fiction.
Just yesterday I thought up a great story idea as I drove past the prison. I won’t be sharing it with you…I read once in a book for writers that once you share your idea your passion for it leaves. You shouldn’t share it with others until it’s on paper and your passion is spent. I don’t know if I fully believe that or not. However, the point is that I got all excited about the idea. I remember another author saying that everyone loves the idea stage and beginnings are sexy. I guess I’m just caught up in the sexy stage. (Maybe it’s a sign,)
Yet, I suffer from serious writer’s block or maybe it’s the utter inability to finish what I’ve started. My father always told me to finish what I start. I’ve heard it a million times, and yet I still don’t finish. Even my husband bugs me. I always leave a little bite on my plate at the end of the meal. He is of the clean-plate persuasion and he is greatly disturbed by my inability to take that last bite. Now mind you, it’s not that I am full, it is that I will not clean my plate. There is always a crust of bread, or an end of vegetable. Some little fragment left there waiting.
Maybe my writing is like that with a lot of fragments hanging about my computer as little gems of ideas. Waiting for me to conquer my first project and move onto them. They need their stories told as well…