The Burden of Imagination

People are always asking, once they hear that I am a writer, how I get my ideas; the honest answer is that I really have no clue. Most of them come to me during the hour or so that it takes me to fall asleep after the lights are off and before I slip out of consciousness, but I have a hard time tracking the process of how it all happens. The ideas just seem to appear, either in the form of "What would happen if a certain type of person ended up in this situation?" Or sometimes, "I think that these characteristics would make for a really interesting person. Now what kind of trouble can I cause for her?" Or him. From there, but mind just spins like a wheel-running hamster on meth.

What all my ideas seem to have in common is their near pathological persistence. They stick in my mind like burrs smeared with Krazy-Glue, refusing to be dismissed no matter what bits of logic I use against them. It doesn't matter to the idea currently percolating in my mind, for instance, that I just got back edits for the latest book in the Others series and have only about 3 more weeks to turn them around. The New Idea wants to be written, damn it, and to hell with contractual obligations, scheduling conflicts, and my need to do silly things like earn enough to pay my bills.

As a professional writer, I have an obligation to stick to the agreements I've already made and ignore the new idea until my edits are in, of course, but exerting that kind of discipline is never easy. In this case, I think it's going to be particularly tough. Which is one of the many, many, many reasons why proofreaders are so darned important. Otherwise, there's every chance that my heroine might call out the wrong name in the heat of passion.

That could be embarrassing.