A thought that naturally follows yesterday’s post…?

In considering that happy medium that I was talking about, and (once again) thinking about 180 book ideas, I realized that there is no way I could have 180 ideas.  I don’t think I could even have 20.  I feel like I came up with all of good ideas for stories when I was in high school.  And that I’ve spent so long working and editing those few ideas that I’m afraid I’ll never have another creative idea again.

I suppose I should be a little depressed by that.  Was that the only time I was creative?  In high school?  I have a whole bookshelf of multi-colored folders with stories that I started in them.  All from ten years ago.  Some I even finished.  So if I managed to make all of those ideas feasible and good, then why would I need more?  That works for me.  I’m somehow OK with that.  The writing still happens–plot occurs, characters develop.  So what if I’ve got no new ideas?

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