I’m sort of used to this by now… story ideas and weird, unconnected snatches of conversation turning up in my head when I least expect them.
Once upon a time, I would have panicked and flailed. I would have tried to second-guess myself or reason myself out of writing.
These days, I just roll with it. I grab a pen, take note of what the Muse decides to land me with and then either get on with the rest of my day when the torrent stops, or – if I recognise the voice – take time out to see where the strange comment or scene this might actually fit in my current collection of WiP.
This story, though… this one came from a completely different planet, though it arrived in the usual style. One moment I was ironing, the next moment the Muse said “How about?” and the first 2000 words wrote themselves in under 40 minutes.
I had no idea what the story was about or what was even going on… but what I had intrigued me.
Now, two days later, I have a bit of an idea of what this is and where it came from. Along with a serious case of nerves. I love writing suspense, but anything supernatural is out of my league. Or has been so far.
So why am I exploring the idea of the bright light at the end of the tunnel? And the belief that – in death – you actually see yourself being born into your next life? Why am I even contemplating the idea of what might happen if that transition goes wrong?
I would have sworn that I gave up pondering the metaphysical after a long-ago winter spent in Moscow, where we hung out in marbled corners, smoking and debating whether trees perceive other trees and how far a living thing’s awareness actually reaches.
I would have sworn I’m a down-to-earth writer with a bend for science and history, more interested in working out what makes people tick rather than ponder the heaven’s mysteries, but this idea is like a burr in my brain. And right now I’m not sure if I’m a good enough writer to do this idea justice.
And yet, case of nerves aside, this story wants exploring. So… let’s see where it goes.