I got about three hours of sleep, woke up and stared at the clock for over an hour willing myself to go back to sleep, or at least stay in bed. And then I got up. Because tonight, the gears were turning. The gears are always turning, but tonight they were in overdrive. Serious overdrive.
I’m mostly churning on writing ideas, but there has been a lot of random…bwuh?…thrown in for good measure. This is me we’re talking about after all. I’ve got a whole mess of characters rattling around in my head and I’m debating if they all fit into a given project or not. I know some of them are going to end up being left out because there just doesn’t need to be that many people in the story. And I know some of them just don’t fit into the particular mix I’m thinking about. Which then leads me to plotting of where they might fit and if there are any existing projects that might be lacking characters or in need of a cast overhaul. And there are still some inklings of new ideas that I haven’t decided if I’m going to attempt to pull off yet.
Then I stop and try to figure out what the hell I just wrote.
It doesn’t make any sense to me either.
Because it’s four in the morning. And I should probably go back to bed and try to get at least a little bit of sleep before Bob’s alarm goes off.
At 5:00.
Tristan thinks Auntie Sara is crazy too.
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