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Showing posts with label where does inspiration come form?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label where does inspiration come form?. Show all posts

Monday, May 16, 2016

So... here’s an experiment. It’s Monday – traditionally the most dreaded day of the week. And what else is dreaded? The blank page

So... here’s an experiment.

It’s  Monday – traditionally the most dreaded day of the week. And what else is dreaded? The blank page – so I’ve opened a new file without a title or even a clue of what I’m going to write, with the intension of publishing the piece before the end of the afternoon... arghhhh!

So, what have I come up with so far...? Well, the first thing I wrote got deleted, then I looked around for inspiration and noticed that there was something navy and white in my  extra hot whites wash – oh no a stowaway sock had somehow  hidden in the corner of a round drum... how does that even work? Who knows, but it obviously needed sorting out immediately – disaster averted and a cup of tea made, right let’s get to work... I’ve changed the font and the size, there, that’s better.

So maybe the title should be procrastination...  oh... I don’t know how to tell you this but there’s another stripy sock in the hot wash – I don’t know how that happened, I never miss odd things in the washing machine, or have I stumbled upon an answer to the universal problem of the odd sock? It seems that socks have a will of their own and stowaway in the washing machine to add themselves to other washes.

Ok this is past a joke now – there was a third stripy sock in the whites wash... and what has all this taught me? Well apart from that I need to check the washing machine better when I empty it, I think I need to stop looking around for inspiration, all I seem to find is stuff to do.  

On reflection maybe daydreaming would have been a more productive way to spend the afternoon, delving around in my own imagination where hopefully I won’t find any stripy socks, although now they seem to be getting everywhere, so you never know, maybe it’s a sign that I should write a story about stowaway socks – oh dear the more I think about it... so if I end up writing about socks I shall blame it on this experiment that I decided was a good idea on a Monday afternoon in May, when I was probably in denial that I should either do some promotional work for my books, or start writing a new one.


Hang on a minute – the main character in my new book has odd socks on, so although they’re not stripy, maybe I could pass this off as a promotional piece, and pretend that that was my intention all along, but in truth I find it a bit weird that events and my imagination have conspired to come full circle and all seem interwoven. I wonder what was whirling around in the washing machine when I decided to put odd socks on my character in the first place, and looking around me now, I can see other things that could have inspired my story, but I’m not giving them away today – that’s for another day.