I thought of something fantastic to write about for my Z post the other day, but can I remember it now? No, of course not. But here we are. At Z. I'm kind of amazed I made it all the way to the end, but I did, without having written anything in advance or planning anything in advance. Yeah, I'm a pantser through and through. There's no point in denying it any more.
Which brings me to the point of today's post. I'm starting a new book tonight. It's not any of the three ideas I was toying with before, but something that just grabbed me last weekend while I was watching a documentary about a musician I knew a long time ago. Someone said something and the whole story just flew in my face like some kind of manic cream pie. I've been holding out all week, trying to give myself room to breathe and think the plot through, but I have to give up on that now.
This story wants to be written.
I'm plunging into it zealously, without an outline, without anything but a feeling in my gut that's part excitement and part terror. The words feel like they're sitting there, ripe fruit waiting to be plucked. This is a story that's very close to me and I feel a huge weight of responsibility to tell it well. It's dark and messy and passionate and full, oh full of music.
So I'm going to go write now. I hope the story flows the way I expect it to, and takes twists and turns I don't. I'm going to keep this post close by, so when things get hard, I can come back and remember the zeal with which I began the project.
Wish me luck...
How do you feel when you start a new project? Excited? Petrified?