Inspiration strikes at the weirdest hours

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

Early yesterday morning (at about 1:30), I started to write. Its a compulsive habit. I need to before I go to sleep, otherwise I’m all thrown off.

Strangely enough, my mind was rather clear. I started to plan out my next novel. I should be working on See My Way (the current one), but instead I decided to write up a quick background on the political situation in The Other One. No, that’s not the working title. It has nothing to do with the story. I’m just rather guarded about the topic.

But it is futuristic speculative fiction.

I’ve never tried my hand at speculative fiction before. I don’t think I’ve read more than one or two stories in that genre.

But I’m trying something different with this one. I’m going to plot everything out to begin with. With an outline. And pre-created characters (with their own character sheets!).

Sometimes inspiration attacks at 2 am. I guess I have to listen to my muse.

On notebooks

General Geekiness, The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

I’m a sucker for notebooks. Not the spiral bound, 70 pagers that you pick up at Shaws or Wal-Mart in your frantic back-to-school shopping, but a real, archival quality paper, beautifully bound notebook.

These, unfortunately sometimes with the word “Journal” sprawled across the cover, are my favorite things to write on. Yes, I know a cheap spiral bound college ruled notebook would do just fine, and they have. There’s something special about writing on good quality paper.

When I was in Italy in April 2007 (has it really been that long?), the first thing I bought while I was there was a leather bound notebook. That was the only souvenier that I knew I needed to have. I’ve filled it, but writing on its pages brought me back to Florence and Rome.

My current notebook was a gift from my grandma. It’s red with faux gold foil on the cover. The paper is thick so the ink from my pen doesn’t run through (except when I accidentally fell asleep while writing. There’s a big ink spot going through four pages. Oh well, that adds character.

At Christmas, my parents gave me a beautiful notebook, also from Italy, that’s yellow with pink and blue flowers with gold vines all over it. I’m looking at it right now and smiling.

The thing about these notebooks is they hold specific memories of when I received them. Those spiral bound notebooks do not. They are boring, identical in every way. Plus, those spirals get caught in everything.