I've tried so hard to remember what it is that I forgot
But I can, but I can believe... will you now
-from the song "Worried Eyes" by Eagle-Eye Cherry (duet vocals by Titiyo Jah)
While driving to work this morning, I started thinking of various ideas that I wanted to write, but of course at that moment I was on the freeway unable to whip out a pen and paper to jot down my ideas or the scene playing in my head or the dialogue I heard between two people or...
You get the picture.
So it got me thinking about all those lost moments... those bits of story, those segments of story, those little portions of "oh gawd, that would be great" that just slip by because of whatever the reason may be.
Me? Usually for me it has to do with being WAY too tired for my own good. (Let's hear for Insomnia, shall we? *yawwwwwwwnnnnnnn*)
I seem to have a lot of grand ideas as I am about to fade to black or when I can't get to a pen. I have tried to, as my consciousness spirals down the drain, to write down or type out whatever brilliant idea that crossed my synapses before it's too late, but most often it usually is. The pen slowly starts to slip from my fingers. Or my hands rest on the laptop keys causing repetitive letters to appear.
No, I'm not being clever. I've passed out on the computer.
Almost into sleepy oblivion, I try to tell myself "This is good. You'll remember it in the morning. You will! And then after you shower and are fully awake, you will write down notes and ideas and all will be well."
If I had a nickel for every time it hasn't... yeah, you guessed it: Oprah-rich!
It's at those moments that I try to wax on the positive thinking that hey, if it was good enough of a bit, I'll remember it. It'll come back full circle and then I'll have that epiphany to which I will then write it down and voila! Masterpiece extravaganza! (I just love that word.) LOL!
When the idea doesn't come back, I excuse it, thinking things like, "Must not have been that good of an idea if I can't remember it."
But really, who the frak knows? Certainly not me.
Who's to say that all my best ideas weren't the ones that lost out to insomnia or a lack of a pen or just plain forgetfulness?
Why must my creative moments torment me so?
You're like that thought or comment that's on the tip of my tongue that I can't quite get at (though when that usually happens, the more I chase it, the more it runs away never to be found... thus is why I forget about it, and if I am meant to know the answer, it will come to me).
If I had a nickel for every time I sat up in bed in the middle of the night screaming random things due remembering them WAY later than I needed to... yeah, Oprah-rich!
Then there are the conscious moments of creativity that just bitch-slap me about as if to say "Yeah, we got a great idea... but we're just going to keep it really vague and not help you formulate it into anything. Instead, we're just going to leave you with this sense It could be really great, only if... and never follow through."
That's right my friends... a literary-authory cocktease of sorts.
I guess if you think of it that way, then I've had blueballs for a while now.
[re-reads previous line and wonders what is wrong with my brain]
It's just sometimes I get these ideas - these really neato spiffy keen ideas - but for some reason the translation process seems to get all wonky as it makes it way from my brain down the circuitry of my awesomeness and to my hands where I can either write or type out previously stated neato spiffy keen awesomeness.
Maybe I'm wired wrong and the creative juice circuits are flowing elsewhere.
Perhaps I need to start learning to write with other parts of my body?
[imagines pens stuck in various alternate places, and is - for the most part - unhappy with the images]
Any of you have problems like that? Anyone else have problems with getting their ideas out of their noggins and into some form of legible whozit-whatzit for others to read? How do you solve the evil plague of writer's block or creative stuckery?
Leave me a comment. Let me know. I'll give it a whirl.
And who knows? It just might work.
Later my lovelies.