June 27, 2013
They’re everywhere — story ideas, that is.
It all started when Russet and I found a credit card on the sidewalk. Around the corner, in a clump of trees,waved a hank of jet-black hair with a white streak.
Uh-oh. Poor guy never had a chance. Must’ve been rolled for his card, scalped and strung up in a tree. I picked up the card and pocketed it, intending to call the owner or at least keep it safe.
Wait till the perp finds out I gave his stolen bounty back to the unlucky stiff. * Rubbing hands together * Hee-hee. That oughta fix his little red wagon.
Yeah, I know — I’m weird. Goes with being a writer.
Just the other day, I found something gold in the grass — a tube of mascara. Scattered nearby, a mirrored eyeshadow compact and brushes along with the zippered pouch. Two days later, in the middle of a vacant lot, I found yet another make-up kit.
Now, folks, I ask you –:would any woman in her right mind let go of her pricey make-up unless it got knocked out of her hands? I think not. I’m calling it foul play.
Even my iPod gets me in trouble. On Monday, an Abba song, “Man After Midnight” whispered another story idea in my ears, causing me to speed-walk home to record it on my laptop. The next day, the synopsis of a romantic fantasy based on a 1989 dream I had formed inside my twisted brain.
Keep in mind, I’m already four-years pregnant with a bouncing-baby WIP — work-in-progress. I don’t need one more “kid”, just yet.
So, there you have it. Story ideas are everywhere: on the sidewalks, in vacant lots, hanging from trees, on iPods, in dreams, drainage ditches….