Telling Stories

So, it seems like I’ve started writing (fiction) again.

Despite the hints I’ve been dropping over the last while, I didn’t really plan this. It’s not one of the story ideas I’ve been turning over in my mind, I haven’t done any outlining, and I’m not really sure where I’m going with it. But the idea came to me last night, almost fully-formed, and it seems to be one of those ideas that demands to be written.

This morning, I wrote 500 words.

I could have done more. I kind of wanted to do more. But I’m still not sure that I can write this sort of thing without letting it take over my life. (And not in a good way. I’m not talking about “flow,” I’m talking about obsessive perfectionism that makes me hate the process of writing, and hate every word I’ve ever written.) I’m hoping that I can take things slowly and remember that I do actually enjoy writing, sometimes.

It’s possible that nothing’s going to come of this. The concept might not be able to sustain the story. I may not be able to find a plot in all the cool ideas and character moments. I might lose interest, or I might have to abandon the story if I start to get too weird about it. It might be a good thing that this isn’t one of the stories I’ve been thinking about for a year, because it takes some of the pressure off—I don’t have any real expectations for it, and if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be easier to let it go. And if it does work….

500 words today. A lot of notes. And I still feel pretty good about all of it.

For now, that’s enough.