Sorting Through The Pieces

Even when I'm not working, I'm working.

Sometimes I wonder if this is just the way it will be my entire life, the way my brain works as a writer and creator. The ideas spin around and scatter and split and shuffle and sort themselves out even when I'm not forcing them to.

This weekend was the calm before the storm for me, both personally and professionally. It was nice to take a break from the marathon, though it seems like I also spent a lot of time thinking about THE BIG ONE.

No need to talk about the idea itself. I couldn't explain it easily if I tried. But all I can say is that the puzzle pieces are coming together and that one idea leads to three more which form a bigger and clearer picture.

I feel like the last ten years have been warm up. I really do. Amateurish attempts to tell a few quasi-autobiographical stories. Stories that deal with the gray instead of black and white. Stories that I'm proud of but that have also been practice.

It's time to grow up and get going. With STORY, with stories, with this particular story.

Maybe this notebook I'm filling with storylines will go in the closet, but I don't think so. I really, truly believe that the practice and the experience and the life is helping me to get closer to achieving something really meaningful. Something really cool.

I don't know. All I know is that it's impossible to switch off the ideas if I try. Maybe I'll write this series and then get it off my chest, all these dreams and plots and themes.

All I have right now are echoes in my head. Images, faces, scenes, structures, characters, lines, and surprises. Lots of surprises.

Tonight is still time for dreams. Then tomorrow will be time to continue the work of building and exploring and telling other important stories.