“Somewhere in this building is our talent.”

Our, in this case, being mine. I mean, like the man said, “It couldn’t have gone far, right?” I’m not used to having to force it, but I’m sitting here, trying to write a twelve page story, and nothing, but nothing is coming together. The best I’ve got are a couple of dodgy outlines that don’t satisfy me – there’s a flaw in each of them, chiefly that there’s no emotional heart to them – they’re just some events that happen to some characters, rather than being about anything. Even if I leave aside the “scary trees” concept that Fin and I agreed, I can’t make anything come together. Oh, and I’ve got five different start points for things without outlines – just half formed ideas that I can make coalesce. I need to find something that I want to think about, resonate off. A feeling I want to catch, or a theme to explore.

Eh. Time for bed. I’ll fight with it again tomorrow.

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