I started writing a new story last week.
Therefore, if you're keeping record, I have three in the proverbial literary hopper.
The two I spoke of in a previous blog. And now I've added a third.
This is par for the course for me. I'm hell at ideas, shit on execution ... unless you count that one time I published a novel. Remember? Back in 2006?
This new story springs from a couple of different ideas, as most ideas for me often do. Over here I have a neat idea about such-and-such, and then over there I have a completely unrelated idea and then one day - BAM! - they collide and form, by a sort of creative particle acceleration, a brand new idea.
This new story, when I'm not working on the other two slightly older stories, gives me goosebumps. You know you're onto something worthwhile when you get prickles.
The prickle index on this one would be a low 8, on a 10-scale. So, a workable story then.
Why do I get all schizophrenic about writing? Jumping around. Doing the whole WADHD (writers attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder) thing?
I guess it's based on an unrealistic fear that : 1) THIS one is even better than the LAST one and therefore 2) If I don't jump at it NOW, it'll somehow go bad. Like bread left in the cupboard for too long.
In completely unrelated news...
I was formally accepted to attend the University of Maine in the fall. Woo hoo! I got in, man, I got in!
Now ... I have to send them $250 to "reserve my spot."
Meanwhile, I await financial aid news and news of last week's pitiful testing.