So, I had an insightful discussion about the nature of creativity and the urge to create with my oldest daughter recently. Out of the where ever that fuels my brainpan, I explained to her that for me, there are a hundred whispering ghosts of ideas pinching and poking at me all the time. The ones that pull my hair the hardest and cannot be ignored get put onto paper. As is sadly typical of me, I didn't realize that was how it is until the words were actually coming out of my mouth. I am frequently the last to get the memo, as it were.
The latest hairpulling gremlin has a name, an outline, and won't leave me alone. I am a little scared of it, frankly; it's not a very happily ever after kind of story. I may not know exactly where it's going, but I know a sketchy neighborhood when I see one.
