procrastinating

i'm currently trying to get around to writing the next part of Deathdream.  however, since i have absolutely no idea what happens next (other than one or two vague ideas involvng cobbles and rooftops and walls...um...), i thought i'd write this instead.

i'm still trying to work out how the writing part of my brain functions.  so far, it seems to be, rather like the rest of me, fairly erratic.  i seem to go for days not feeling it, then get a quick burst of a day or so, then nothing much again for a bit.  check the posting dates and times of deahdream and you'll see what i mean.  in between, though, i seem to get these occasional flashes of what can only be described as "Other Stuff".

(hmmm...that's an awful lot of "seeming"... *editor-self raps writer-self over the knuckles with a wooden ruler that goes "byoyoyoyoyonnng"*)

take this morning, for instance.  i was suspended between waking and sleeping and, as has happened to me before when i've been in this place, the germ of a story sidled into my head.  not a very long one though.  i suppose it would more-or-less be categorised as "flash fiction" (which is, BTW, a term whose meaning i'm still only hazily familliar with...).  the weird thing was, i was actually dreaming in words.  i don't mean i was dreaming a voice telling me the story, i mean i was actually watching the words appear before my eyes, overlaid on the scene they were describing.  which, of course, didn't strike me as the slightest bit odd at the time, since i was dreaming, and these things don't. 

but it strikes me as somewhat odd now.  encouraging, but odd.  because this is kinda sorta how i read.  i see the words, but i also see the pictures...

forgive me, i'm rambling.  i'm also, as it happens, cursing myself, since i could remember every single word when i woke up.  and it seemed coherent (which, let's face it, so often isn't the case), and i didn't write it down.

damn! damn! damn!

and now, thanks to the usual distractions of a busy day (doing little but reading), most of it has disappeared back to where it came from.  i am kicking myself so hard at the moment, because i can remember the basic shape of it, but not the linguistic nuances that made it more than just words strung together. 

it's gone flat.

***

just as an aside, it occurs to me to wonder if that's where i keep my story silt, between the shores of sleeping and waking...?