Boiling Ideas Needed

by Steve Pease/Michael Chandos 

Writing is hard, concentrated work. You "stare at your typewriter until your forehead bleeds", wrote one writer. I haven't had the concentration recently. Why?  Life.

- My wife embroiders with a room full of expensive Babylock machines. Beautiful work: 75,000 stitches, towels, aprons etc. She sells on ETSY and her website. And at primal human tribal events called "craft shows." We used to hit the outdoor events under an expensive awning tent. Our deal breaker was a serious Rocky Mountain hail and wind storm of epic proportions. Pummeled. Drenched. No more outdoor shows. Indoor only.

This year, there have been just two major indoor events, at a high school and a local event, the semiannual Black Forest Arts Guild, a four-day show. Considerable family energy goes into these two (sometimes three) events. Ended Today!  Hooray!

- The first granddaughter wedding is this following Saturday. A big family event. Unfortunately hosted 150 miles away and we can't afford days away. So it's an early drive up and a late drive back. And two dogs in the house tasked to deliver the ultimate in bladder control. The wedding takes the place of a third major craft show, a semi-hooray in itself. But a week of wedding-clothing-choice anxiety replaces it.

These events involve months of preparation and family hustle, which eats away at my available concentration. I mentally cling to ideas, make notes and scribble quick scenes, but there is no attempt at organized, formatted writing.

Of course, Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming and they will fill the rest of November and December, but my soul is screaming for writing.  Discipline is the answer. Meaning, I will set a time for writing and the world will have to make a space for that.

There's a writing tip there. Make a set time for writing and keep to it. Your mind and body will become accustomed to the rhythm and will produce at those times. This will also activate the subconscious idea generator every writer's mind needs. I need to resume carrying a notebook for those rare and brief moments of brilliance. 

I was reading a 1950's vintage PI short story, a Joe Puma story by William Campbell Gault. The story was ok and moving along. My eyes snagged on a line. My reading skidded to a stop. What did I see? A possible title? Yes! I read back up the page a little. It was merely a short phrase in a line of exposition. A title possibility: "The Lost Found". My mind quickly invented an SF trilogy of "The Lost", "The Lost Found", "The Lost Future". Move over Issac Asimov!

Yeah, that's the action I need. The idea generator snagging on interesting phrases accompanied with rapid-fire images, scenes, characters.

Bah Humbug and forget the turkey! I need some of this back and boiling.