What is it about me sitting around in waiting rooms? I swear, I get the best ideas for writing at the doctor's office, car repair places, train stations (preferably foreign ones), airports, lounges . . . Not usually in the shower, like so many others, but that was probably too much information. Please go and cleanse your minds by watching something with lots of explosions in it. A bit of blood spatter might help too.
Seriously, though, I took my car for an oil change this afternoon (road trip next week) and sat down in the waiting area with two guys who looked suspicious. They reminded me of a couple who didn't want to sit to close in public because people might assume they're together. I think they were brothers. Maybe their family has the no touchy-touchy rule. My sister tries to smack my butt, and I scream and run away, so I understand that. Oh, sorry, TMI again. Back to the Bert Brother's waiting room.
I pulled out my handy, mini notebook that I have in my purse, just in case I have an awesome idea while I'm out and want to jot it down. When I fail to write them down I forget them, even when I'm “Sure I'll remember that—it's too great to forget!” Whatever. My brain is full of vacancies that are so haunted that no other memories will go near the place. Ooops, is that tangent #3? Waiting room.
Along with the notebook, I retrieved my pink pen (nobody panic) and started to think about Nanowrimo coming up in November. I want to write a frolicking tale of teamwork, kick a** fighting, intriguing bad guys and big explosions for Nanowrimo this year. (Last year's Sci-Fi thriller turned into a sappy romance that I haven't even re-read yet. Stupid story.) I started with what kind of team I wanted, what they would be doing and where they were from. Fifteen minutes later I actually had two full pages of fodder. Out of fifty or so, I combined three of them and came up with a story idea that will be great fun to write! I'm so excited. -)