Fuel Efficiency

My developing young adult story jerks like a crotchety old car that doesn’t want to go for a ride on a cold New Hampshire morning. Stop and start, rev and stall. What will I call it? Why am I writing a sequel when the first book hasn’t found a home yet? Will I have a page or two ready for my writing partners in time for our next meeting?

I don’t worry too much, as I’ve done it all before. The story will soon leave rubber. Yet so many ideas churn in my mind, I don’t know what to write. My muddled  thoughts confuse and distract me. It’s a familiar feeling. It makes me crazy.

I love it.

Treasure

I am running on high test. Not only have I visited several web sites (some of which will surely have me on the “radical watch” list of those who track such things), I have read a variety of books obtained both in Ireland and in my aunts’ amazing library. But did all that reading about bardic poems, magical herbs, fairies and archaeology start this quandary in the first place?

No. As one of my favorite old Irish sayings goes, “Seeking one thing often finds another.” Research inspires. I doubt I'll ever write about dendrochronological data or the River Lagan’s Water Monster. These interesting tidbits might clog the fuel line, but they swirl with the fairy wind and the leg irons found beneath old forts. Fine, but how do I sort all these tidbits for better fuel combustion?

I procrastinate by insisting I must finish other writing projects. Between loads of laundry, grocery runs, and social visits, I wonder if I should escape to a writing retreat. I launch a new cooking blog and begin reading L.A. Meyer's wonderfully addictive Bloody Jack books. Creating a new Windows Media playlist inspires me. I zoom in the left lane for a bit, then stop to clean bird droppings from the windshield. I manage to write the first chapter.

The pit crew is ready. Soon, the story will rip down the track like a well-tuned sports racer. I might be driving the vehicle, but I will have no power to stop it.

I can’t wait.