It's like some kind of addiction ...

I can't help but continually come up with new stories. New ideas that I know deep down I will not put in the effort until such a time when the right catalyst is present. Every time I'm ensnared in the rapture, brimming with lust for seeing it manifest and completed. Yet I never start. Listen to me, I still believe that the right catalyst will eventually make itself known and inspire me.

Why do I hoard these ideas all to myself? Because they are, if I do say so myself, bloody brilliant stories. So why do I never put the effort to share them?

Either way, yesterday I came up with another story. I germ of a beginning of an idea. I've spent the last 24 hours working out the logistics of such a story. Whether or not it will have a meaning, or an ending, or what. I think I've settled on something.

It's got a very (not surprisingly, if you've been reading my last 3 entries) Lost feel about it. The whole idea of free will vs fate ... Something I've noticed that seems to surface a lot in my writing. As is the concept of God. I'm sure there's a psychoanalytical rationalisation for it. Not Lost in the sense of fantasy/sci-fi/supernatural, but thematically and with characters.

It fills the void I wrote about last time, where I wanted to write a novel based in the real world and around teens. Perhaps I'll base it in school I've been using for all my novels, maybe not. I'm thinking it will work best as a novel. A singular, without sequel or prequel, allegory written at length and from multiple perspectives.

As I write this I am excited for it. I would not be surprised if a similar work had been undertaken before ... but it excites me nonetheless. I've got a whole list of names sitting here on my desk - I've been collecting some cool names for about a month now - so maybe I can start putting names to some of my characters.

Oh yeah, and it'll be first person perspective. Fulfilling another writer's goal I've had for awhile now.