I constantly for things to inspire me. Writers do this. We try to pull things from life that normal people may just gloss over. The sting of something painful, a certain behavior of someone that isn’t appreciated by seemingly anyone else, that kind of shit. Because it is just shit to almost everyone else. Ever since I became a professional writer a few years ago, there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t try to pull from something to eventually turn into a few words on a blank page somewhere. Even if it is the murky, gray water that three weeks worth of dishes sits in where what used to be a functional kitchen is.
Friday afternoon, I had a good response and a subsequent back-and-forth with a guy here in the Phoenix area about a script he wants to write. We got to know each other a little bit, and I believe we’re on the same page. Although when 4:30pm hit, the emails stopped from his side. Maybe he went home from work for the day, maybe it’s a big ol’ shove off, I don’t know. What I do know is that during our back-and-forth, I was able to sketch out two solid pages of characters and plot points for his idea. And he’d be damned to not want to use them. Sure, they’re just sketches at this point, yet to be flushed out by organized character arcs and dialogue, but they’re fucking good. I’d likely use them very soon down the road anyways.
Which brings me to the point of tonight/this morning’s post: I’ve got so much material that I want to generate. I want to get an anthology of flash fiction stories published. Now, I never really saw myself writing something ambitious like this, in book form at least, but I have the entire concept down to the carefully-worded query letter. It’s succinct, and I’m filled with the feeling that this is the type of thing that would immediately sell. Which is something that publishers look to do, being in the book sales business and all.
And then there are countless story ideas I need to flush out into other projects. Cup is running over like a Midwestern backyard pool during storm season. Now, I already have a writing partner, and things are working incredibly well. We even finished the script that we wanted to write, and just may end up writing another. But I’m simply not going to limit myself to the amount of collaborators that I will work with. Wide open. I’ve been at this long enough to realize that when something has the potential to be written, you just don’t need to think about it much longer or daudle on it. Just fucking write it. Because you’ll be so glad you did.
And I’m very glad at this point in my career that I’ve written everything that I have. Even if it was pure dreck.