I need an idea – a plot. I’m waiting restlessly for a brilliant story to enter my brain. At which point, I am hoping, the plot will thicken and the characters names will come forward. However, until this happens I am stuck – cemented in time.
Thoughts have to enter my head, and soon. I feel the itch. My fingers tingle in earnest with the desire to smash onto the keyboard in a rhythmic tap, tap, tap and create amazing sentences, and dialogue. My mind desperately searches for a place – a perfect destination.
I lay awake at night piecing together the images, the dialogue, and the faces I see and hear. Little by little a shape forms. I squeeze, puncture and massage it into a mould – my sculpture I can now work with and pull apart when I need to.
And once again a story has begun.