I don’t solve creative problems (and that’s what books are–narratives that can only be advanced through creative solutions) through some mystical skill of pulling together random things. In fact, I make long lists of possible choices, including the boring, stale ideas that have become cliche. I cross off the dull ones, then I cross off the ones that don’t work, then I keep adding to the list.
This morning I found a 1943 nickel in some change. Then this evening another set of change brought me a 1913 penny. (For those keeping score, the former is nearly 70 years old, while the latter is almost 100.)
It makes me wonder how often I’ve blithely passed such treasures from palm to pocket without registering the same subtle irregularities that prompted me to take a closer look today.
We only get one go-around on the Great Hot Wheels Track that is life, so why not manage some slick jumps and loopty-loops before your car flings off into the oblivion beneath the couch?
I hate to bludgeon you about the head and neck with a hammer forged in the volcanic fires of Mount Obvious, but the only way you can finish something is by not stopping.
Oh, and as far as that old ‘immortality would be boring, nobody really wants to live forever’ trope — I would be happy to test that out for you all, and find out if living forever young really is boring and unattractive. Just let me know.
Carrie Vaughn — In Time
I’ll second that.
Point being, at the end of every day’s worth of word-making, back up the file in as many ways and places as you care to manage. Future You, upon suffering a cataclysmic hard drive shitsplosion, will thank Present You for being so damn smart.
At 11/11/11 11:11:11 I was running around, trying to get things together for an overnight trip to Kosrae.