A Nearly Finished Draft

It’s not so much that I can’t come up with ideas, I just can’t hear them for the noise.

I don’t blame you for wondering what it is I need a break from. The optics are, I imagine, that I fill time between periods of sleep with putterings of little priority or consequence. But no – no, there’s a busy internal universe building pressure in my head that stirs like a stamped-on anthill. Narrowing it down to a single good idea is the real challenge.

I’m going to spend some time at the cabin with a plan to return on this day a year from now. I’m going to be Thoreau-ly focused until I can wring a solid idea from my restlessness. Ha! But you’ll see that I really am one great inspiration away – one turn of the Rubik’s cube that will convert the apparent randomness to elegant order. I just need the muse, the idea, the time…

I need Mary Shelley’s Lake Geneva, George RR Martin’s turtles, Ray Bradbury’s random office junk. How lucky they were to have access to such inspiration.

I’ll see you all soon if it is me who returns.