The terrifically annoying part about writing is having what you now recognise as terrific ideas leaping into existence and stabbing into your brain at any random moment.
But it’s not a regular brain stabbing that leaves you permanently cross eyes and emptying your bowels on the kitchen floor along with the obvious inconvenience of being fucking dead, it’s more of the kind of brain stabbing that makes you go ‘Oh! That’s rather a good one. I really should do something with that knife later on.’ And then you pluck it out and sit it down on a bench top or a buffet or a decorative ice sculpture of a swan riding a unicycle for safekeeping.
Somewhere obvious that you’ll easily recall when the need for that knife arises.
Unfortunately ideas, unlike knives, don’t leave a tangible physical presence when placed somewhere.
This works partly in your favour because you don’t have the issue of stabby-brain time on your hands anymore. But this doesn’t work because now you have no idea where that fucking idea went.
Plus if it were a knife, you’d have at least a trail of blood and cerebral fluid to follow back to said knife, that is if having a portion of your brain pierced hasn’t inconveniently affected your memory. (This is usually only a problem if you’re one of those crazy Russian bastards who cops a knife to the noggin and goes to work at the vodka mines for a week straight before realising that his headache isn’t clearing. Everyone else tends to die.)
And while being attacked by a good idea isn’t quite as immediately devastating as a knife, it does have crippling long term issues. Namely in that you’ll spend the rest of your day confused and distracted as all buggery while you search high and low for that idea.
Honestly, I literally will search high and low.
A friend once said to me ‘Don’t you hate it when you have an idea and you can’t remember it?’
To which I replied ‘Yeah! Then you try to remember when you remembered it and you have to walk into the room you were in before trying to find it and you have to stand in the exact same spot where you thought you last had it and sometimes even do the same thing, like pour a glass of water or some shit?’
It was then that I received the all too familiar “There’s something fucking wrong with you boy” look followed by them saying ‘No… I don’t do… There’s something fucking wrong with you boy.’
We still don’t talk.
I can’t remember his name anyway.
It was an annoying enough affliction when younger but when I started writing it became on par with a surprise cricket bat to the shins.
If you’re creatively inclined you’re likely geared towards seeing the good idea in the most mundane of shit so it’s an all day shin-whack-a-thon if you’re not prepared.
So how does one get preparer?
Get a notebook.
Get two, get six, get as many as your local spinster has cats. And like that spinster and those cats, keep those bastards on you at all times.
Fuck it most of you have a notebook in your pocket already in the form of a phone (with Onenote. Yes, that’s what it’s for.) But if your thumb oriented touch/speed typing is anything like mine you’ll be frying your battery in no time while auto correct tries to keep up with all the spelling mistakes.
I’m a pen and pad guy so that’s why I recommend the notebook. I have a pen on me at all times which is awkward to stash in the shower or when it naked wrestle/hug time but I do what I can.
It also gets a laugh occasionally from friends but they’re not laughing when I perform an emergency tracheotomy on them.
They’re definitely surprised seeing as they weren’t asphyxiating, but not laughing.
If you’re already writing, you likely already do this, if you don’t write, I’d recommend giving it a try.
Seriously, keep a notebook on you at all times and write down any random thoughts or ideas you think would make for a cool story. Who knows, after a little bit of time you may have a short story or poem or even the outline of a good bookface post that’ll give you some of those luscious dopamine triggering blue thumbs ups that make existence worthwhile.
It doesn’t have to be fancy, you can get six packs of pocket sized Spirax books from the supermarket for a couple of dollars.
This way, when the knife enters your brain, you can draw it out and place it in your notebook for safekeeping and not get weird looks from people as you walk backwards in a that same supermarket putting things back on the shelf trying to remember the origin story for a character from a book you haven’t written yet.
Just don’t forget where you put your pen…