Sometimes my brain gets tripped up on an idea, and it takes years to undo the sprawling mess of nonsense thoughts that result from that one, core nonsense idea.
What I want to talk about today is a prime example.
This is probably going to sound unhinged for a bit––probably because it is unhinged––but here’s how I used to think:
I used to get annoyed every time I had a new idea. Because I was getting ideas faster than I could do anything with them, and they were forming a backlog that was only ever getting bigger and, someday, was likely to overtake and/or crush me. Then I was going to be dead having left a bunch of unfinished stories and projects and it would be such a waste.
I used to wish the ideas would stop for a bit. Or at least slow down so that I was getting them at a much slower rate than I was writing, and therefore I wouldn’t constantly feel torn between all of my various works in progress. If I only had one short story idea per year, for example, I could write that and then still have plenty of time to get all of the words for my novels done. Or vice versa. Ideally, I’d have a ‘one in, one out’ method of working. But only once the backlog was cleared
I genuinely used to stress myself to near sickness over this.
But here’s how I’m coming at it now: it’s a reframing issue. Continue reading
To say life has felt manic recently would be a gross understatement, and I haven’t really been documenting any of it here, so let’s catch up.
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