Strange Creative Surge

I’m feeling a strong creative surge this week and writing a lot of fiction, but a head cold is draining me like a vampire leech.

So now I’m living in this bizarro state of inspired energy and a constant desire to nap. Fortunately, even my nap dreams are conjuring up strange, exciting ideas. I don’t have a fever or anything, and I’m not on anything harder than coffee. It’s just that in spite of my physical exhaustion, I seem to have tapped a good mental flow.

I try to maintain creative openness on a regular basis, so storytelling feels less like something I do at certain hours and more like something I’m always doing. Because who knows when and where the right idea will materialize? What happens if I dwell on my novel between 9 A.M. and 3 P.M. and some fantastic idea wants to appear at midnight?

It’s great when that consistent openness works, and I’m suddenly writing about things that feel emotionally electric and — in a thrilling way — incomprehensible. These might be terrible ideas I’ll need to cut from later drafts but they’re worth pursuing, even when I’m sick.

So far this week:

  1. A talking deer corpse
  2. A ritual chant recorded onto an old cassette of The Carpenters’ greatest hits
  3. Coma milk
  4. The logistics of temporary suicide
  5. Ghost lovers seeing each other for the first time

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