WHEN THEY SAY I HAVE A STORY IDEA FOR YOU

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Howdy, Campers ~ and Happy Poetry Friday! (original poem and PF link below).

2019's first topic rumbling around our TeachingAuthors' treehouse, is How Do I Start a New Writing Project? Bobbi launched our new year asking What is your first line?; Mary Ann followed by blowing my socks off with her poetic description of beginning a new story.

You know the feeling when you read something and it's so good, there's nothing left to say on a topic? That's how I felt after reading these posts. I simply wanted to bow to my fellow TeachingAuthors and tackle some other topic...

Me, curtsying to Bobbi and Mary Ann

 I lied. It's Cissy Fitzgerald, curtsying. 

Photo by W.M. Morrison, 1895 

from the Library of Congress

...until I remembered my Hot Idea Files, which, like Mary Ann's journals, are filled with lines of dialogue, quotes that at some point stirred my insides, a misheard word, an item from my gratitude list, ideas that flew across the room and hit me like a rock, a remembered dream, a word or definition from Wordsmith.org's A.Word.A.Day ..like borborygmus (...look it up).

Here's a random jot (as Mary Ann calls them) from February, 2014:
Teaching feels as if I'm careening down on of those Olympic ski racing courses--you know, that 1½ mile downhill course where they hit speeds of 85+ mph? Yeah, that feeling. Like I'm going to hit a bump and skid off the course and die any minute. And then...the three hours of class are over and I had them. Cowabunga! GOLD MEDAL!

And here's one from June, 2017:
I think my sleep is deeper...I'm having lots of dreams. It feels as if I'm catching up on dreams that have been stacking up.

Speaking of stacking up...have you ever had someone say, "Heck, I can write a picture book on my coffee break!"?

When I hear that, I think about the process of choosing an idea for a poem, a picture book or a novel and decide that the person who just said this...
is an alien.

So—what do I do to start a new writing project? I open the door and listen to my stacks of ideas calling, "Pick me, pick me!"...choose one, and simply begin.

WHEN SOMEONE SAYS,“I HAVE A STORY IDEA FOR YOU!”

by April Halprin Wayland

I say, “How nice. 

Would you like to come inside?”
Then I walk her up the concrete steps of my brain,

open the door and move ten heavy boxes,

walk around letters stacked to the ceiling,

shove aside bulging brown bags with string.

We make our way to the back bedroom

past piles of Federal Express packages

where I stick a butterfly net

out the bedroom balcony doors

and catch a few more ideas

as they fly past.

In the kitchen, cases of canned ideas

line the worn wood floor,

unpacked sacks of fresh-picked ones

are piled on the counter.

We hold onto the paint-chipped banister

and walk down the wobbly stairs

to the cold, cement basement.

The sulfur smell surprises as I strike a match.

“Where is there room for your idea

between the wooden tennis rackets,

the rusty bird cage,

the folded music stands

and trunks of family stories?” I ask.

Crouching behind a trunk

is the one that creeps upstairs at night

to slink along the hall near my bedroom.

It's almost too heavy to pull to its feet.

This is the one I am working on now.

“Would you be kind enough to take your idea

to my storage locker downtown, near the pier?”

I say, handing her a small tin key.

“Perhaps you'll find room there.

Best to stand back as you roll up the aluminum door.”

drawing & poem (c)2019 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.

What's in your Hot Idea File?  C'mon...tell us one thing. We are dying to know.

Thank you, Tara, for hosting Poetry Friday today!

posted with hope for this brand new year by April Halprin Wayland, Eli-the-dog, and Snot-the-aging-cat.