One of the biggest problems with writing is the number of ideas that are stirring around in my head. And by stirring I mean flailing around wildly. And by number I mean fucking plethora.
Idea #1: A romantic interlude involving two young boys who stay together for decades.
Griffin tried to follow Noah after he left the banquet hall, but his young friend disappeared across the vast lawn with its various garden sculptures, and into the wooded area behind. He stood there on the large patio, watching as Noah was swallowed up by the growing darkness of the woods. Without hesitating, Griffin pulled the car keys from his pocket and ran out into the parking lot.
He moved slowly down the main streets and then back to Noah’s house, even though Griffin was almost positive that, after everything that happened with his father, home would be the last place that Noah would run to. Griffin sat in his car for several moments, both hands gripped around the steering wheel, his mind racing with ideas as to where Noah might have been.
I’ve been writing this particular story for nearly a year, and for that year I wrote religiously. Every single day I wrote at least something, whether it was a paragraph or a page. And then, one day, without any warning, the ideas just stopped. They just stopped coming.
So this was me, sitting at my desk
Until the next day, when Idea #2: A pair of elder vampires are holed up in an upscale hotel, and feeding on the people who come to their room.
Sunset did nothing to alleviate the sweltering heat that radiated up from the streets. Buildings vibrated from the force of large, industrial air conditioners working overtime, threatening at any moment to give out. The people some 30 stories below were doing anything they could do to find some relief from the summer heat, but relief was nearly impossible. The summer was already in full-swing, and had no intention of letting up.
This idea stuck around for a total of three days. Three. Until my brain read the whole page I wrote and decided that
THIS IS CRAP! And so I slept, rather than writing I lay down and relaxed for a day. And came up with Idea #3: The social networks personified and entered into a Hunger Games-type scenario. This story has a few characters mapped out, but has nothing written for it. Not yet, at least.
The point of this particular entry is that as of this moment I have three story ideas that are fighting for supremacy in my mind. Three completely independent story ideas, three completely valid ideas who are looking to increase not only their validity but the amount of space that they take up in the forefront of my brain. The problem with this, with these three stories vying for control, is that after a while the fight turns into a stalemate, and guess what?
Nothing gets written. And I’m left sitting in front of my computer, staring at a blank screen, praying for the words to come.