I guess this is a writer’s #FirstWorldProblem but I have TOO many ideas. I can never just focus on one and make it the best. For me, I get ideas kind of like some people get triggered. I’m just sitting around and listening, and someone says something specific and all of a sudden I start thinking of how cool this or that is. It can be really obscure too.
Here’s an example. I was at my sister-in-law’s baby shower this last weekend, and one of the things we did was read quotes about babies and children to identify the giver of a gift. So the mom-to-be would pick up a gift, and the owner of the gift would read a quote. One of the quotes, and I can’t remember who said it, or really the whole quote, said something along the lines of “Having a child is like seeing your heart leave your body and walk around.” It was far more poetic than that, but I didn’t pay attention after I heard it so I’m sure I missed the ohs and ahs and Oh that’s so beautifuls. Instead I was off in my writerverse, careening around satellites and asteroid belts of once tested story ideas.
This time I landed on a barren city planet. It was the land that was barren, not the people. The cityscape was a modern marvel – towering skyscrapers so embellished with facades and buttresses that they couldn’t have been crafted by human hands. It must have taken years to build such a glorious fusion of gothic architecture, modern office space, and transportation. Underneath the shining white cones and parabolas of the skyline lay a dark secret. To the regular citizen, it was accepted fact that once you have a child, you are never seen again. It was as if the Hospital was also a mortuary, or a deliverance to heaven or Valhalla or what have you. The scientific term was heart loss. The physical act of breeding bonding two hearts into one – the one in the child. Once the child is born, there is no heart left in either parent. They are merely blank husks, ready to be discarded or reused. The hospitals, very secretive places endorsed and wholly managed by the Human Resources Corporation, hid what happened to new parents. Everyone assumed it was for modesty or to shield them from some horrific happenstance. What exactly does HRC do with them? Is it coincidence that HRC also manages job assignments and role classifications?
I really like this idea. HRC is suitably evil but believable enough to be passed off as a force for good. There is much I can do with this.
It has taken me awhile to actually craft something I wanted to talk about here. I’ll get to it in a little bit, but first I would like to announce a resolution to post 5 times a week. It’s going to be a rough, rough road, especially since I’m doing this with my other blog on Paleo. That’s 10 posts a day of unmitigated thought explosion. That’s acceptable for this blog, which is essentially just a blog about ME and my work, but for Ancestral Bachelor (said Paleo blog) it’s going to take a commitment to real content. People won’t visit the site just because I rabble for 5 posts a week. I have to provide solid content that people will share, or what’s the point of saying anything to begin with? I don’t know how I am going to post twice a day, every business day. Every time I’ve tried this in the past, it has failed. Maybe this time it will work? Who knows.
On to the more relevant and interesting part of today’s post. I’ve been working on a short story for the last 4 months. I wrote it for a particular publication that I wanted to submit to, but it’s been so long, I don’t know if it is still accepting submissions. I’ve received a lot of good feedback from my editors about the story, including that they think it’s a great idea. To me though, positive feedback is garbage from people who already like my work enough to read it and edit it for me. It’s definitely a biast view, and it really shouldn’t be if I want to have any actionable motivation to make myself better. I might try to find someone who only vaguely knows me that would be willing to read and edit for me. Maybe they won’t spoon garbage into my face about how good or bad the story is and just tell me their recommended edits. I know just the two people I’ll send it to. I won’t mention their names now, but look for them in future posts. You’ll know who it is when I call him the Literary Dark Emperor. That may have given it away, but I guess we’ll find out.
I also wanted to give a little sneak preview of the story I’m writing. Names and events are liable to change, but as the story stands right now, we follow Branson, the COMA THIEF (working title). The 2000 word short story follows the machinations of a thief who steals inheritances and fortunes from the elderly. But what surprises may lie in wait for him is the real twist.
There is no set release or publication day for this story, but it will be announced here first.
Hopefully tomorrow, I will post AFTER I have coffee, so I’m not begrudgingly writing, and rather perkily typing. Caffeine does wonders for the tired mind.