Nov. 1st, 2008

megwrites: Reading girl by Renoir.  (Default)
Being stuck between several ideas, I outlined the heck out of them last night and then went to bed, hoping that either my subconscious would have the right answer come to me in a dream or that I would wake up miraculously know which idea to choose.

Yeah, don't ever rely on your subconscious to be useful or timely in giving you information. My subconscious is pretty much the bastard lovechild of Cookie Monster and Animal. It wants nothing but sweets and goes around wrecking up the place while growling incoherently.

This morning I got up, a bit bleary and with a bit of a sugar-hangover and decided to screw it all. Screw the idea being good or publishable or even not trite. Everyone's ideas are trite if you boil them down to basic elements and strip away all the context and execution.

And if everything is equal, I'm gonna start working on the idea that I know the first line for. That's something, right?

So. Chapter one, page one, line one.

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