A week ago I had a brilliant idea for a screenplay, and as sometimes happens, this idea was accompanied by the burning desire to lock myself in a room — or, better yet, a coffee house — and type type typety-type away. But I didn’t. Because life was happening, and there were errands, and cleaning and eating that had to happen.
Today I was thinking of that idea again, and I could not, for the life of me, see what was so clever about it. So I ask myself whether it was ever a good idea, or whether I have forgotten the bit that was really interesting. In any case, the burning desire to write it has gone gone gone.
This is my reality when it comes to writing: I get lots of ideas. I get really excited about a few ideas. If I don’t pursue these ideas right away, they will not happen. They fade away, their brief life not materialized. That’s the sad bit: something could have been created. I could have created something, and because I didn’t act on the idea, it didn’t happen. In the long run, in the grand vista of human existence, these failures to act mean absolutely nothing. But it still means something to me. Maybe one day (soon!) I’ll learn to do and ignore the distractions.