Hijacked

There I was, enjoying breakfast and preparing for an eagerly anticipated writing session on my current novel when it happened. The heavy trapdoor in my mind creaked open and my subconscious crept out of his lair. He tossed an idea onto the table and slunk back down into the depths where he belongs. I’m not sure but I think I heard him mutter, “This will blow his feeble little mind.” My subconscious is not a fan.

The idea exploded and took my story in a completely different direction. Character’s backstories expanded and diverged. The tone shifted. New plot lines seized the wheel and raced away in a cackling frenzy. Former nagging plot holes vanished and new story arcs appeared.

I sat there for about an hour, sipping my coffee and exploring the new ideas. I have to admit, my subconscious comes up with my best ideas. The trapdoor cracked open and he hissed, “If I don’t get some writing credit this time, the next big idea will come during your last chapter.” That’s just wrong. If I know him, that next idea would require extensive re-writes of all of the previous chapters.

“Fine,” I said. “I don’t think I can get away with listing my own subconscious as a co-author, but I can give you credit in a forward or something.”

“When the time comes,” he answered. “I’ll write it for you. I want it to be good. In the meantime, stop wasting time and get busy writing. Do I have to do everything around here?”

You see what I put up with on a regular basis? There’s a reason he doesn’t belong out in public.