They are running rampant, I tell you!
They run around, banging on the cages of my mind, pleading for me to let them out but they always bang at the wrong time.
For instance, I was just taking a bath, in the midst of a nice shower actually, when sudden inspiration hit and I was barraged by a storm of thoughts. They hit me, one after the other, quickly and frequently. I had no idea of what to do. I mean, what does a writer do when she is suddenly ambushed by thoughts in the midst of her shower? Does she stop to quickly jot them down on a very damp piece of paper?
Maybe. Maybe that is the sign of a committed writer – one that will jump out of the shower, dash out the bathroom, and scramble for paper and pencil to catch those hardball thoughts beating her mind. I’ll make sure to do that next time.
By the end of my shower, my mind felt bruised and not one thought was left in there for me to jot down. All was forgotten. I sat at my desk with a pen in hand, waiting for them to return but they didn’t. They had already left the forefront of mind and were now traveling down to the forgotten dungeons. That dank, dark place where all forgotten things accumulate and are hard to recall.
Darn it! Those were some really good thoughts. Thoughts that could lead to an essay or maybe even the beginnings of story that would become a best-selling novel from which I could use the profits to pay off my $100, 000 educational debt. But the opportunity has passed and all I’m left with is the lesson from the experience (always have a notebook and pencil handy, even in the shower) and my $100, 000 debt.