Not only is it now late October, and I'm left waiting impatiently for the beginning of November, and the start of my next 30 days and nights of literary abandon (to use a phrase most famous for being on a NaNoWriMo poster), but I always find myself stuck with plots. Coming up with a plot isn't really a challenge for me, as, even with this year, 3 months out, I had a plot all lined up and ready to go. I even had a sequel to it ready for writing as well. The only problem is, as I get closer and closer to the beginning of November, my mind starts to race, and the ideas begin to flow thick and fast. But they don't actually fit together as one story. So I'm left having to choose.
One year, everything worked out great, because I had my lovely wife by my side reminding me that I have a plot, and I should just write it the way I know how. And every time I came up with a new idea (it happened on average two times a day that year), I just wrote it down in a separate document, with only just enough detail that I could pick up the idea again at a later date, and went back to my original story.
Well, the discipline is long gone, and the excitement of the event is taking me over. I keep getting new ideas, and modifying what I plan on writing based on what flashes past my minds eye last. What exactly am I supposed to write? How can I possibly be expected to write anything when everything is a possibility? Sometimes I'd almost say that I envy the unfortunates who, gifted though they may be, a constantly stuck for plot ideas. What I wouldn't give to be gifted instead of a fountain of ideas...
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