In __________, inspiration

Writing has always been a fickle thing for me. Sometimes the words flow in a way I can't--and don't want to--control, a river of fire burning through the middle of my head that I just have to get onto a page before it incinerates me.

Other times... well... it's more like trying to pry a nugget of gold from the center of a mass of lead slag.

But you take the good with the bad. That's the way inspiration works too, at least for me. You can't force it. You try too hard to think through a problem (or invent the seed of a great story), and you end up with just a tangle of threads that start someplace promising but end nowhere.

That's why I wasn't surprised when inspiration hit tonight.

While I was doing the dishes.

Like I said, you take the good with the bad. And when I was done scrubbing, I sat down and tried to get as much of this nascent idea out in front of me where I couldn't forget it or otherwise condemn to oblivion. Mission successful... at least until I try to start writing it for real.

And there is no pattern to it. Mrs Blog is busy freelancing; I had a busy day posting stories online (most hits from the section--holla!), a belly full of delicious leftovers, two beers and vague fears about the first day of Arabic class tomorrow. A night like any other, except a beautiful idea fell from the sky and into a suds-filled sink.