Puddle Jumping

IDEAS. IDEAS. IDEAS.


I seem to be full of them at the moment. I love that, but then, as they say, too much of a good thing...too much--A Problem—heck YES! When I'm really full of those ideas, when they pop around in my mind like the beads in a kid's toy vacuum, there IS a problem. I lose focus. I'm not sure which one to latch on to. I don't know which one I should pick or where I should start.

I could choose the memoir. The short bits of anecdotal life that help me work out a stress in my current life. For instance, my grandma is about to undergo surgery. The family has cleared out her apartment to help make the fast transition to assisted living. Photos that are grandma’s and hers alone have surfaced. Those photos have memories that have lain dormant for decades. Ideas, ideas, ideas.

Then there are the realistic YAs. I read them; I write them; I have fun with them. My characters are reflective of my friends, my students, myself. It's summer and I can't help thinking about how my characters' summer vacations are going. Ideas, ideas, ideas.

And of course, there are the historical fictions. OMG...I'm stirred by them at the moment. After attending the summer writing workshop with KATHI APPELT I can't help thinking about their personal goals. A blog that I follow recently covered the idea of writing the premise of your story as a guide. Despite my stories having a clear outline already, I can't help but think about putting the goal and the premise out and letting go of sections I have already developed, but that don't really belong in the novels.

Oh. And there are the stories, genres, and characters that really haven't played out at all yet that are swimming around inside my head using my eyeballs as their source of light. They dart in and out of my consciousness, teasing me. Ideas, ideas, ideas.

There isn't enough time in the day to write them all! What's a girl to do?