It was still dark and bitterly cold at 6.00 am yesterday. Five year old declared it too cold for our early morning walk. At 3.5 degrees C I was inclined to agree. So we read on the couch instead. Snuggling together warmed a memory, which hatched an idea, that grew into an incredible urge to write a new picture book.
Now I'm bubbling away with images, characters and half structured sentences like a percolator about to explode. I don't quite have a full pot but there's definitely a brew in the making. The feeling is tantalizing.
Stunt doubles no doubt are accustomed to the kick of adrenalin. They recognise its scent and relish its taste. They know how to harness its power. For we writers, that initial surge of motivation is no less subtle than a shot of adrenalin. I want to sprint down the beach, leap through the surf and slay slimy sea monsters: well I want to be in a comfy chair at least while I observe my characters as they do this.