Living in New York City usually has people sighing and wishing they lived here. I hear that a lot. Me, I never cared for the city and more so now that Irene plans to whirl in for a visit. However this hurricane reminds me of writing a novel.
The first blow of an idea from the far recesses of our mind collides with another stream of ideas. That's the first nugget of an idea that as it builds momentum forming characters and plot. Scenes spiral up, building up the book. As it nears land, the idea has turned into something bigger with a force all it's own.
Then it strikes land (or our case a computer) and the actual planting your behind in a chair and writing. Sometimes, you can blow right over, causing a frenzy and the words falling from your fingertips. And other times, you're stuck in the same place and being destructive. The words never come and you're dumping junk on the page.
Then your path diverts, characters shift the plot or a new conflict pulls in a new direction. So now, the storm of an idea has rebuilt, streamed by these new factors. Now your keyboard is burning from you slapping down the story. Your family is dealing with less than stellar dinners, the laundry has piled up and the dust bunnies are reproducing with their rabbit speed. So sad about the wake of destruction.
Then comes the end where the storm falls apart breaking into nothing. Now starts the clean up, editing. You trash the debris, fix the damage and after some time and elbow grease, you have a novel.
So while Irene whips up a frenzy, I plan to be writing and causing some problems for my characters. I hope everyone stays safe whether Irene is coming your way or not.