Star-Crossed Lovers

A writer and a new idea are like two star-crossed lovers who meet every once in a while, when the tide is just right for an explosive union.  It is an unplanned rendezvous dictated completely in the throes of the universe.  It is a love affair that comes upon as rarely as leap year and rocks the Earth off its axis.

Ideas cannot be created…they are bits of matter that ignite whenever they come into contact with other particles.  When they ignite in the same vicinity of the person with the pen, it’s magic.  It happened to me today…

I’m a real sucker for the chance to exercise my love for historical fiction.  Oh, how I love a good period piece!  Lately I’ve been looking to shake things up a bit and focus on a more modern story…and just like that,  something I read about the Gulf War sparked a beautiful father-son tale stretching over a twenty year period from the pre-persian gulf conflict to post War on Terror (with a little love in the mix).  Somehow my story and I crossed paths through a memoir George W. Bush wrote about his decision points during his presidency.  I never thought old “George Dubya” would have anything to do with my next piece of fiction, but he did.  He happened to be that bit of unsuspecting matter in the air that led to the spontaneous combustion of inspiration.  Who knew?

Now, on an ordinary Sunday in early Spring, something great was born.  Perhaps my third novel?  Time will tell…but the rush of getting to splatter some more ink into my “ideas” journal was enough to call it a successful day in the world of writing.  I never know when my lover may call, but he did today and we spent some time hashing out the logistics of a new masterpiece.  I’ll ride the waves of this meeting for sometime probably, until he beckons again through some other unsuspecting object.  It’s like getting into Narnia…it’s never the same way twice, and it’s impossible to plan a trip.  However, I know if I’ve been once it will summon me again.  And, as always I will sit on my porch with nothing but the gentle breeze beside me, like a lonely teenager waiting for a soldier stationed in a far away port to return to her…I will wait for my star-crossed lover to find me again.

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