Have you ever wondered where inspiration comes from? Why at times it seems to not want to be anywhere near you and at others it smothers you like a clingy overweight monkey?
It seems that inspiration can come and go as it pleases. I was sitting in a lecture (interesting subject, boring lecturer) and it was as though I had an entirely new idea for a book. It was like some one had put the book in my hand, read me the blurb, opened the first page and then snatched it away from me.
I wanted more than anything to snatch it back and finish reading it, but inspiration, the taunting monkey that it is, held it out of reach. If I ever want to finish it I will have to do it myself.
Sometimes its like that. Things will come at me completely formed and if I don't put it down on paper it will slip away like the memory of a dream or grow stale and I lose interest in it.
Inspiration is a cheeky monkey that I am constantly trying to tame to keep by my side, but not have it going wild and pulling at my things. At the same time I don't want it to sulk off and leave me to entertain myself.
Good luck with your monkeys,