I have my melodramatic head on. It demands I write something angsty and wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the man who climbed out of a mailbox (thus I wasn't allowed to plot his short tale today, although I'm desperate to know why he's so interested in the store catalogue) and it discouraged any work on my next long piece (a dollop of the 1920s, plus a side slice of the dystopian and a footstep into the far future, known as the mad escapade into losing my marbles or achieving world domination).
My brain gave me the following brief: I want a gorgeous, whimsical, yet gut-wrenching* tale of a girl who is slowly dissolving.
We're in negotiations as to whether she actually dissolves.
Meanwhile, Pastor Best's tale is fermenting on my memo board. While he fusses with his moth-eaten cassock and plays with his intestines, I shall think up a less-suitable name for him.
*Memo to my brain: By gut-wrenching, we usually mean 'pull out someone's insides', but we'll let you play with the other today.
13 comments:
It's a strange place inside your head, Cate, but always an interesting one...
...and familiar to anyone else who writes, of course.
There's wind whistling through it at the moment.
Dissolving girls, men who climb out of mailboxes... you are absolutely insane, and good at it, too. :)
What? You've never had a man climb out of your mailbox? Jeremy, you haven't lived.
Oh--yes. Make the girl dissolve. All the way. How much fun!
And fermenting is the way to go these days...the stories turn out much more, er, "ripe".
Or in the case of one I wrote three weeks ago - shredded :D
The dissolving girl story sounds like the most interesting plot EVER. I wish I could think like you, although I'd probably sprain something if I tried.
Woman, I wish I had half your originality and inspiration. All these ideas sound fascinating.
These are all wonderful ideas. I particularly like the man in the mailbox.
Sounds like your brain is giving you a workout, and vice versa. Good job!
Kate, I'm sure you wouldn't.
Cory, until my pen destroys them.
Thanks, Bobbie.
India, it's gone back to sleep now.
Oooh, how does she dissolve? Like cotton candy on the tongue, perhaps? :)
I shall never tell.
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