A bit unsettling

This morning, a soft and quiet Sunday, Lillian was down for her first nap, my tummy was full of breakfast, the sky was grey and low, and I was feeling inclined to a nap myself, so up I went to make the most of it. As soon as my head hit the pillow, though, it began to race with story ideas. New stories, at that. I scribbled the first down, and tried to get back to sleep, but up popped another. In the end, I just got up and wrote them all out.

Now, getting new ideas is always a good thing because it keeps me on my toes and it gives me faith that I can keep doing this, but this time, the ideas were dark, harrowing, and deeply unsettling, perhaps most because they were contemporary in setting and, sadly, all too possible.

Why? I mean, everything was peaceful. I was relaxed. We had a whole day ahead of us with nothing in it but we wanted to do (like sleep when the baby was sleeping, for example).

And yet, modern-day terrorism-based thriller storylines were sprouting like mushrooms in my brain and refusing to be ignored.


Passed my 5 minute quota, though.


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