I write so many posts.
I know what you’re thinking, “Er…no you don’t, Jenny. You’ve hardly been writing at all.”
Okay, maybe “write” isn’t the exact word I’m looking for.
I craft so many posts in my head. I spin a tale while I’m in the shower, while I fold the laundry, while I sing my boys to sleep. Then late at night I sit down at the computer, ready for my Pulitzer-level brilliance to spill forth…and I’m empty.
When I first started blogging, I kept a notebook of ideas. I’d jot down random thoughts to jog my memory, and that would be enough to start the creative process.
But I want—no, I need you to understand these aren’t just ideas. They’re fully developed sentences and paragraphs, right down to the italicized text…and they’re gone.
Even this, as I write it, slips through my fingers. The idea materialized 30 minutes ago in the shower, and the nuances already shift and slither away, more difficult to catch than those stupid garter snakes in my mother’s pond.
I have so much to tell you, and it’s all coiled up under a rock in my brain.
It has to come out for sun at some point, right?
Lie to me if you have to. I’m okay with that.