I get some of my best ideas at night.
I don’t mean while I’m dreaming, although that happens too; dream-ideas are usually so vivid and visceral that they stick in my mind and I’m able to call them up almost at will. Entire novel-length stories form around those ideas, which I think of more as visions–not Jesus-in-a-piece-of-toast visions, just glimpses into the human condition via my own deep subconscious.
I’m talking about the ideas that chew through your mind while you are lying awake at three in the morning, dreading the sound of your six am alarm. Often this is a kind of mindless chatter, but once in a while I become a sort of idea fountain, spewing out perfect blog topics, plotting marketing plans, scheduling tours, sometimes writing a whole book in my mind. This may sound productive, but it’s not, its more like an assault of stress and anxiety, flanked by hordes of sleep gremlins who keep me pinned to the mattress, unable to get up and actually write any of it down.
This doesn’t happen every night, mind. I’m lucky enough to suffer from it only occasionally, usually when I’m on some kind of caffeine yo-yo, or my day job is particularly stressful, or I’m riding a drafting high like I am now with Book II. Last night, these three things combined for the perfect storm of insomniac mania.
Last night I planned out no fewer than three big events for the store to put on this fall. I have no idea what they entailed, something about a raffle, but I’m sure they would have been wonderful. I had several detailed conversations with marketing contacts. All the while, I was revising Book II in my head, filling in holes, adding to scenes, pondering plot problems. I’m sure these revisions, like the events, would have solved all the problems I’m having with Book II. I wouldn’t know. I can’t remember a single word.
It’s not like I wasn’t tired. I was yawning before my head hit the pillow.
This morning, my head feels like the aftermath of the rainstorm we had last night, surprisingly calm, a little soggy, a few garbage cans down in the alley. Part of me regrets the fact that all the night’s ideas have dried up like the puddles on the patio. But I also feel strangely confident.
Because there is a silver lining to this idea storm: Knowing that I’ve solved the problems facing my business and my book once, I now believe I can solve them again.
Wish I could say I’m off to write, but I’m actually off to sell toys and plan out the fourth quarter marketing this morning. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m pretty sure there will be a raffle somewhere in there. Wish me luck.
