I do most of my creative thinking in my car when I’m commuting. The rest of my life is just packed with too many distractions.
Lately, having plateaued on edits for The Edge of Memory, and patiently waiting for partials to be reviewed, I’ve been spending time thinking about my next novel, which will be more firmly in the “Suspense” category. I’m very excited about the idea, and I love thinking it over, figuring out the plot details.
But not today. Today, my mind was cluttered with a variety of oddities.
Like, remember this?
It occurred to me that I should add in a parody for “Somewhere” (There’s a Place for Us). Obviously, this would be titled, “There’s a Plan for Us.”
Usually, I’d have drummed up the lyrics on the spot, but I was distracted. By the no-less-than eleven stuffed Garfields displayed in the rear window of the car ahead of me. Two of them were of the window-cling variety. Some were quite old-looking. I increased my speed slightly to pass the car, fully expecting to see an older cat-lady type driving.
Hmmm… chain-smoking young man. Did he borrow this car? Was he demonstrating his softer side? Attempting to woo a Garfield-lover? Or does he simply love Garfields and I should learn to accept him for who he is?
I’d like to believe the last one is the truth.
And finally, I kept coming back to the realization that Obama finally did it.
This makes me happy. I’d like to shout “Yes We CAN!” but, as a pediatrician, that just makes me think of Bob the Builder.