It seems like a writer would love to have an overabundence of ideas. I'm sure for some, the thought of the well running dry is enough to send them into therapy or the nearest bar.
I am currently at the point where I wish I had fewer ideas.
Don't get me wrong, I love writing about Jude and Cari and Frankie. I love the entire super secret project I have going on, for a variety of reasons. I even love writing these blogs--honest. I feel guilty when I don't have enough time to post, especially since I've gotten into the habit of doing so.
But I wish my brain would turn off a little. Just a little.
Case in point? About two, three weeks ago, I'm lying in bed trying to sleep. Since I'm a nutcase, I've imagined myself into a book series I love--not as a main character, just a nice recurring supporting character. And at some point in the imaginary scene playing in my head, I say to...hell, I don't even remember who, "How much did it cost?" The person I'm talking to, naturally, is confused. So I clarify with, "How much did it cost for them to buy you?"
From those two sentences, I had the entire idea for a movie. A movie. I have no idea how to write a screenplay. None. But what I envisioned, what came to me, was not for a novel. It's something that has to be seen, that deserves to be realized on a larger scale.
If I was smart, I would just file it away, come back to it in a few years. So of course, I don't do that. I hook up with a fellow employee who went to film school for a bit and took a screenwriting class. We're working on it in stages, and it's slow going, but I've got tricks and connections up my sleeve.
Why didn't I turn away? Because it struck me and grabbed hold with the same ferocity of any of my other projects. Jude, Cari, Frankie--they all came almost like a lightening strike. The super secret project was slower, but so much more intense, like a summer storm on the flatlands, the kind that can ruin crops and lives with little effort.
If there's one thing I've learned--don't ignore the lightening strike.
So I'll take the overabundence of ideas. The lack of time to play with them. I'll take it all, because I feel like turning away from them is turning away from something amazing.
And quite frankly, I can't afford therapy.