Bitten

Okay, tell me why...

Months will pass before I get the urge to write. I never truly worry about it (other than the fact that I've never been published, have a few finished novels, and I'm getting older), because I know, eventually, I'll sit at a stoplight and figure out how telepaths and giant mutant roaches all come together for a good story.

So...this week, not only do I get a great idea for a book from a song, but I've written chapters (in my head) for the other books I've started, so I've got six different themes and an overabundance of characters taking a schizophrenic walk through my mind at any given time. Can we say be careful while working a job where zoning out could mean the difference between something in the foot and something up higher by mistyping just one letter? Can we say talking to ourselves in the kitchen, getting the conversation and inflections just right? Can we say burning dinner? Can we say Sapphire needs a laptop to put in the kitchen while she implements her cook-all-weekend plans?

It's feast or famine. I wish I knew what to blame...