Loosing myself in a story is like bobbing face down on the surface of the ocean and seeing a different life play out underneath.
My inspiration tonight has been:
The way the fan’s influence blows the open bedroom door back and forth slightly.
The feeling of a harmless bug or two crawling on me.
How much I don’t like Dr. Who even though all my friends do.
When I wrote:
From two in the morning until after dawn.
Why I wrote: because I couldn’t sleep without doing so. I tried to sleep briefly, but woke up repeatedly before I realized writing could exhaust my mental rambling.
What I’ve written:
At first just thoughts, then environmental details that turned into an entire completed first draft of a story, two amateur songs, another mostly completed first draft of an ultra-short story, then this.
I’m organizing my thoughts better. I’m able to pull my imagery into cohesive pieces and framework rather than spouting out random details that go nowhere. It helps that tonight I’m determined to finish whatever I start writing rather than putting down an outline or a few scenes and expecting to finish it later. With poetry, short stories or articles it’s best to write everything I can while it’s fresh in my mind. If my fanfiction is any indication, I may never return to a project. Maybe that’s why I’m so reluctant to sleep.