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TableSaw Is Drowning.
After coffee today veek and I went on a long walk. We talked about many things, but the topics were not important. (That is to say, they were important to us, but you don't get to know.) I talked a little about a game I was writing, as well.
Something has happened that hasn't happened in a LONG time. I'm percolating. I'm not just having ideas, working them, massaging them, trying them; they're growing again, like up to now they've had jumper cables connected to them but no other car.
Yes, veek was the car. I've gone a long time without the intellectual/spiritual/emotional sustenance that I get from a long conversation about personal things with someone. (And I don't use those slashes lightly. I've gotten intellectual and spiritual and emotional sustenance, but not the special blend of all three at the same time.) It hit me strongly as I was walking, while I listened to veek. And gears started turning.
Somehow, on the walk back to my car (sans veek, who had been dropped off at her house), the game I was talking about grew. This has happened to me before, of course, but not in a while. Not in the organic way that this story did. Not in the way in which I feel that my head is about to explode letting a living idea out of me in much the way I imagine Athena shooting out of Zeus. I'm no longer certain that I'll be able to write the game--I wasn't certain of that before either--but what I am certain of is that by Monday I'll have written a short story.
And this story is spreading life to the other ideas I've been holding for so long trying to get going. Everything's happening again.
If I were in college, I'd blow off class and work through the night, but I've got to sleep, if I can, though I'll probably take my notebook into bed with me to let something out.
Please God, I pray, let this be in my head when I wake up.
Something has happened that hasn't happened in a LONG time. I'm percolating. I'm not just having ideas, working them, massaging them, trying them; they're growing again, like up to now they've had jumper cables connected to them but no other car.
Yes, veek was the car. I've gone a long time without the intellectual/spiritual/emotional sustenance that I get from a long conversation about personal things with someone. (And I don't use those slashes lightly. I've gotten intellectual and spiritual and emotional sustenance, but not the special blend of all three at the same time.) It hit me strongly as I was walking, while I listened to veek. And gears started turning.
Somehow, on the walk back to my car (sans veek, who had been dropped off at her house), the game I was talking about grew. This has happened to me before, of course, but not in a while. Not in the organic way that this story did. Not in the way in which I feel that my head is about to explode letting a living idea out of me in much the way I imagine Athena shooting out of Zeus. I'm no longer certain that I'll be able to write the game--I wasn't certain of that before either--but what I am certain of is that by Monday I'll have written a short story.
And this story is spreading life to the other ideas I've been holding for so long trying to get going. Everything's happening again.
If I were in college, I'd blow off class and work through the night, but I've got to sleep, if I can, though I'll probably take my notebook into bed with me to let something out.
Please God, I pray, let this be in my head when I wake up.