Crowded Around the Edges
A weird phenomenon has been happening lately.
My life is insane. I could go on and on about why and how, but four kids (one with a boyfriend who is here all the time), three dogs, two deadlines, assorted stresses, and chronic pain mean . . . life is more crowded than ever. Not too crowded (you can never have too many people to love in your life), but MORE crowded. More housework, more everything. I even have a new blog starting (announcement within a week, I think).
And so, despite major Shiny New Idea Syndome, I have simply told my brain "Uh-uh, not today. No time for that. SHUT UP!"
And so what does my brain do?
On the EDGES of my crowded life, it sends me signals. I walk past an open book and think, "What if . . . " I imagine magic happening. I find myself stuck at a light and thinking, "What if this character came back from the dead and was EVIL . . . how would that work?" I think of new idea after new idea. But not indulging it yet. Trying to shove it away. But then finding it creeping on the periphery.
Conversations spark ideas, so much so that I have to FOCUS on the talk in the here and now.
A song.
A person walking by.
A newspaper story.
Doesn't matter. All of it . . . crowded on the edges, I presume waiting for the full-on go-ahead. But deciding to push at me anyway.
Anyone else have this happen to them? Does your imagination respect boundaries?
26 comments:
Aside from the chronic pain, I think you'd miss the craziness if it was gone.
I know I do.
I also get my best ideas at the most inconvenient times - it's the way those work I think - wanting attention when something else and others garner it.
Happens all the time. What's scary is when you're driving and you come out of the idea trance only to realize you have no clue as to where the hell you are.
Amy Sue:
I would not know what to do with a sedate life. The THOUGHT of all my kids emptying the next tosses me into a massive panic.
E
Jude;
TOTALLY scary. And happens to me a lot.
E
Happens all the time and I'm with Jude on that one. Just this morning, walking Frodo, I was startled enough to jump when a dog I pass every morning came running up to the fence to say hello. I said, "Hey Brownie, you startled me. I was lost in my own head. Good morning."
Some of your facebook statuses are starting to make sense now... :)
My imagination has zero respect for boundaries, but usually they're just daydreams -- nothing that translates into a story. I'm still waiting for novel #3's idea to come to me.
Mark:
Here's another one. I often WORRY (to the point of sleeplessness) about whether I have been RUDE to people because it will dawn on me I left a party or an occasion and didn't say good-bye, or that I didn't properly acknowledge someone because my mind was elsewhere.
E
Melanie:
If you are thinking of today's . . . then YES. LOL!
E
Just an opinion--The ideas come as a result of your stuffed-full life. In retirement, without so many stresses, I don't have ideas bombarding me as much as they used to. (Maybe age affects it too.)
Every up has a down, I suppose. Stress (in some cases) might trigger creativity. At least, it's something to think about.
Joe:
I actually posted this more as an observation . . . I think you're right in that there is a correlation.
E
My imagination has no respect.
I, too, agree with Joe. The chocked full life leads to lots of ideas and wishing for downtime to write. I get crabby, actually, on days I know I won't get to write.
Speaking of...got to go. :)
Having an active mind is what stimulates ideas. It isn't about the busy person so much as the person that exercises their ability to reason and to think.
Gosh I wish I started writing before I was 45. So much to learn, so many ideas, a ticking clock and hordes of talented 25 yr. olds breathing down my neck. Calling it insanity might be too benign.
I just keep writing all those ideas down and hope to get to a few of them.
Starbucks:
I get crabby on non-writing days, too.
E
Allen:
Very wise!!! Thanks for that today!
E
Beth:
I've been at this my whole life, just about. I keep on scribbling.
E
No boundaries here. I'm always writing stories in my head. They pop in all the time. Sometimes I run with them and other times I regretfully have to push them away. But I'm glad they're here, they're my friends.
Aimless:
I would be lost without them.
E
Crowding on the edge of life. That is one interesting visual. I'm seeing tiny blobs of color trying to sneak into the picture of your life.
I'm with Joe Barone. The less I do, the less my mind whirls, so keep up the chaos, Erica. It's your imagination's feeding ground.
The moment I decide to be a serious writer and write in only one genre--contemporary romance-- I get drowned in ideas. I finally know what the third book will be for my YA trilogy. I get a kick-butt idea for another women's fiction. And this last one has been bugging me for the past month. Snowballing from an idea to a plot. I'm thanking my lucky stars I haven't heard the character speak to me yet.
My writer skin is itching from all these shiny and new ideas. So I've made the deal with the Writing Gods. I will write two books in my chosen genre. I will edit and make them shine. Only after that will I allow myself to write the women's fiction.
The Gods seem to be obeying at the moment. In a month or so we'll see if they will allow me to write the second book or the WF.
So Empty Next Syndrome is not in your future?
kath:
Thanks. I usally tell kids, when they ask what's good advice if you want to be a writer . . . "Be intellectually curious. Live."
Melissa:
When I am on deadline, that's when the most ideas crowd me.
E
Richmond:
No. I always assumed when my kids grew up, I would become a foster mother . . . it's always been my life plan. Always been my intention. No empty nest.
E
Yesterday morning I realized I had stopped in the hallway and was just standing their in my own world thinking about some project or new idea or SOMETHING and wondered, "how the heck long have I been just standing here??" Fortunately nobody was at home with me so I didn't get busted. Of course, if two kids and a hubby had been home with me I wouldn't have been able to stop moving anyway so it never would have happened.
Oh it's nice for the mind to be carted away like that every now and again!
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