The Plate-Spinner's Club
Ideas are cheap. Free, even. I have a great idea for a story is not something any writer needs to hear, because truthfully, we're up to our earholes in them. I don't mean to sound self-important or smug about it. I'm not saying that we're blessed with one-hundred percent sure-fire successful ideas, just ideas in general. We don't need more, because we're drowning in our own. Worse yet, the only way to tell the winners from the stinkers appears to be putting in the work and developing the story and generally investing our selves and souls and sanity on the hope that with enough polish, patience, and prayer, we can turn the brilliant gem of a thought into something worth keeping. That's the dream.
The reality of ideas, and developing them, is that we are human and imperfect and messy and clumsy and distracted and hungry and busy and a million other things, and we're not always able to bring our best selves to the writing desk every time. We're worrying about gas prices versus bank balances and the relative appeal (or not) of candidates in the next election, and we might be finding it just a little difficult to fully get our heads into whatever the story is at the moment.
If you're not careful, this is the way the dreaded Writer's Block forms. But, if you're clever, there's a sure-fire way to overcome this block.
Start something else.
Start lots of Something Elses. Spin those plates, keep them in the air, keep the momentum going. When you're feeling good about one project, dash over to another that's looking wobbly, give it a few turns, and then pop back. Feeling confident? Feeling cocky? Pop another plate on the pole and get it turning.
Is it sane? No. Is it sensible? Heck no. But then, neither are writers. Keeping a few projects in the air is a great way to consume those spare ideas, or, if one has legs, to jam it into a new plate née draft and get it turning.
Join the club and keep those projects going. The next time somebody shows up with a Sure Fire Idea that just needs "someone to partner with," declare you're sadly too busy, and then hand them a plate. You might make a writer of them yet.
🧩🦏
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