I’ve never been one to plan my writing. Sure, I’ve done some whiteboard exercises to try to think about the plot, but every time I tried to actually sit down and create some form of organization my brain goes, nah, you don’t need that. There goes my thought process. *POOF*
Yeah, so what the hell do I do exactly? I daydream. I let my mind wander and then words come out. Half the time I feel like I’m channelling a spirit. More than often, I’m even surprised at what I write. It’s a strange process and I’m sure every creative person goes through their own version. Some have charts, and graphs, and a whole wack of documents to back up their plots. I got a sticky note that I crumpled and decided not to listen to. Yeah. Sometimes I feel painfully underprepared, but who the hell is really ready for inspiration?
And the thing is, inspiration is such a fickle thing, I mean, it can hit you when you’re in the shower, on the toilet, or that last few minutes before you fall asleep. This has happened to me in all three instances and it sucks. I’ve made a mad dash, towel on, soap in my hair to get to my phone and dictate an email to myself. Or, half-assed reached for my phone, only to knock it further, and then half crawl down off the bed to get it and perform some kind of cracked out gymnastics to pull myself back UP into bed to dictate on my phone. I do think the bathroom is some sort of sanctuary though. It’s the only place I can truly be alone with my thoughts and they tend to attack me when I’m not prepared. If I could have an office that looked like a bathroom, I might be able to churn out stories faster? Who knows!
All this to say, I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m okay with it. I’ll keep on cruisin’.