I just barely escaped a terrible case of burnout yesterday. I had the word prompt “drug,” I mapped out a story that had almost nothing to do with cocaine, and I did not want to type it. I was tired, and somewhat emotionally drained from having poured so much of myself into several intense stories (AMM, of course). I felt that if I tried to type it out, I’d scream.
I don’t remember how exactly it happened, but after lunch (and a completely fruitless morning), the WWI plot bunny came bouncing in and demanding to be appeased. It was that defining moment when you just know “this is it.” This is what you want to write. There are few sensations, I think, to compare with that.
It was that way for a prompt I had weeks ago—“swim.” I was trying all day to come up with an idea, and finally, in the evening, it hit. Poldhu Bay. If you know your Canon, you know where that appears in the stories. =) That idea… was like an epiphany. In fact, I’m not sure that I’m the One Who came up with it. ;-)
Anyway, my brief burnout passed, and I managed to complete two stories yesterday and begin a third. But, man, talk about a scare! (Although I think my mom was more worried than I was. <3)
