A Writer's Notebook, Two-Thousand-And-Eighty-Seven

I don't feel that I was quite as successful tonight in terms of my fiction writing.  There wasn't a great idea in my head, at least not one I could find a way to work with. I have had a few interesting images that could serve as devices, maybe, if I had a sense of how to make them fit into stories.  I suppose I need to accept these kinds of ideas, even when I find them harder to work with.  It may be that the reason I had so much difficulty coming up with another idea is because I had already been given some and refused to consider them more seriously.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Neighborhood Inhabitants

A Writer's Notebook, One-Thousand-Eight-Hundred-And-Seventy-Three

A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Three