Tuesday, September 3, 2019

A Music Box and A Yellow House

So, I'm up late last night. As usual for the last 4 nights, I can't sleep. Everything I'd been doing was boring so I decided to write something that had been percolating in my mind for a few days. I kept seeing this scene in my head and hearing the start of the story. Every time I thought about sitting down to write, I put it off. Last night, boredom drove me to it.

I haven't wanted to write in months because every time I did, it just didn't work. I couldn't think, and I had no idea which way to go. I have a story so near a completed first draft it isn't even funny. Two, in fact. My crazy life has drowned me and left me in a heap on the beach. But I want to write.

Normally, I'd even be using a notebook and jotting things down but with the nerve damage in my hand, writing with a pen is not the pleasure it once was. I love pens and notebooks and writing with both. This has been one of the biggest disappointments of the nerve damage.

Anyway. Last night I sat down to write this scene. I don't know exactly what this is about. I just know that I heard a music box playing and I have a woman and her teen-aged daughter buying a big yellow house. That's it. I know what I think it is but so far I have two pages of dialogue and a sense of something beneath the surface.

It all started with the sound of a music box playing last week. No, I didn't really hear one playing. I was trying to nap listening to some music. It occurred to me that it sounded like a music box playing but a strange one. I went to sleep and forgot about it. But it came back. This music box is special but I don't know how. Next, I had this woman pop into my head and she was buying this house. Actually, I saw her in the house and knew she'd just moved into it. Then, I was seeing her with her daughter, sitting in the car and looking at the house. They take a tour but ultimately; they will buy this house.

What I know: somewhere there's a music box. The woman just moved to this town for a job. She has a teen-aged daughter. They get along well. My feeling is that the child is parent to the woman, but that's just a feeling. At some point, there's a storm. No idea when, why, or the impact. And that's all I have. Other characters? I think so, but nothing presents itself at this point.

Yeah, I know. But I can work with it. I think.

At least I got to write something! Today, I want to do it again but I have to pack for a trip to Arkansas. We'll be driving all day tomorrow. So, not sure I'll get back to it soon.


2 comments:

  1. That's totally how I write. Ideas percolate, and then I have to write to find out who these people are and what happens to them.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I actually like this kind of writing. It is so interesting discovering the story! I'm glad to here I'm not odd!

      Delete

Comments moderated to avoid SPAM.

This site protected by

********************** **************
Current time in Evansville