All My Best Ideas Happen in the Bathroom

Since my last post (actually about 20 minutes following that last post), I had the best idea! After I vented, I got up, walked to the bathroom and when I was washing my hands, the idea just materialized in my little head. (I really do have a little head. Last night, I was trying on hats at the Seahawks game, then I found out the one I liked was Youths 4-7.)

Anyway, I practically ran through the cubes back to my desk and typed up a rough synopses and first chapter in like 15 minutes. It was the strangest thing! I'm so in love with the story. I like my main character (she's not depressing like all my other ones always turned out to be -- why is that?). The subject is something I know a lot about and feel confident writing about.

And I'm excited to work on the book. In the past, I sort of dreaded it.

So I guess I just needed to vent. Also, I think I needed to get out all my bad words.

Oh, and on Saturday, I was taking a shower when the end of the book just popped into my head: how all the characters come together, how the puzzle unravels, what daring thing my MC has to do. I need to keep one of my son's bath crayons in there!

Why do all my ideas happen in the bathroom? Maybe I should keep a desk in there.

I Like It, I Like It Not

I can't not post. I have to vent.

I have been working really hard on writing toward my author goal for the past couple of weeks. I'm excited about it, but at the same time I am depressed.

Why? I keep changing my freaking mind, that's why!

(Sorry to yell at you...not your fault.)

Anyway, I have finally chosen to go with what I originally wanted to do, which is write a fiction novel. I'm focusing on the Middle Grade novel. I had a really great idea. Or, at least I thought it was really great.

But today I'm changing my mind again. The story I was going to write centered around a mother's terminal illness and now that I'm almost ready to actually sit down and hammer out real pages, I just found myself not wanting to write about that. I really don't feel like writing about death. Mr. T knows how I hate to be sad or scared. It's why I only do silly movies like The Three Amigos or Hot Tub Time Machine, and why I won't watch stuff like E.T. ever, ever again (I had nightmares...still do!).

So, today during my lunch break at work, I was like, "Why am I writing about death? This isn't me." I got up from my chair, walked to the bathroom and on the way back I had a better idea that I like more, and I got really excited about it.

But this is the problem. I am constantly doing this. I get so far as to tighten up/complete a synopsis, or sometimes I even do chapter synopses, and then I drop the whole thing like it's crawling with spiders.

I feel like I'm spinning myself in circles and coming out of it more confused than ever. I am full of self-doubt. I am second-guessing every tiny detail. And all I really want is to just stick with something good and sit down to write it.

I know there must be something positive about this lame-o process, but I can't see it right now. If you do, please share.

Blogger's Block?

Is this a term? Is it possible I have blogger's block on a blog about writing?

I haven't been writing, although I had an idea for a story in the minivan on the way home from work on Thursday. I wrote it on the back of an envelope and stashed it in the little open spot under the radio.

I've successfully shot myself down, though, and lost enthusiasm for the idea.

Not feeling like writing lately or even blogging, really. Not sure why.