I had this weird thing happen tonight, and it was mentally exhausting. I've been trying to get started on this book I want to write--a fiction piece--and I just haven't found the time to go through the process (which is to write and write and write and whittle thousands of words of crap into a coherent paragraph, then do it all over again). It's a task I keep dancing around but never seem to land on.
Tonight my brain used its down time to land on a completely different idea. I didn't give it much serious consideration until, about five minutes later, I had a brilliant setup for another book. For years now, people close to me (who have heard stories of the weird path that has been my life for almost 40 years) have suggested that I write my autobiography. Me, I don't think it's nearly interesting enough to sustain a reader's interest--though to be fair, I suppose a lot of that would depend on how it was written. Over the following 30 minutes, I developed the idea to the point where it had successfully jumped three hurdles: it would act as an autobiography, it would be written in first person (something I've been struggling with about the other book), and it would be presented as a fiction piece. It got to the point where I was writing it out loud with no end in sight. In the end, I had to seriously change gears, get something to eat, and turn on the TV in an attempt to shut my brain up. Creative overload can sometimes be a bad thing--it felt bad, anyway--but the results were nice.
So now I've got this decision to make: do I (a) shelve this for later and stick to my first novel idea, (b) shelve my original brainchild and try my hand at this, or (c) keep dancing around both ideas and never get a word down on paper?
Ugh.