The Bloody Doors Off

I feel like I’m on the edge of an idea; that there’s something struggling to break free. To be written. Only I have no clue what it is.

Maybe it’s the humidity.

The urge to create is strong, but the clay is unformed and I don’t know where to begin carving. It’s been a ridiculously long time since I’ve started a new project and my skin itches with the possibilities.

But I don’t know where to start.

Usually, it starts with a single voice, talking to me in my head. A line of dialogue that forms an entire project. Most people begin by fleshing out a plot; I form the story around the characters. It’s worked before, I have no doubt it will happen again.

Just, talk to me already dammit. Stop whispering.

I’m ready to listen.