The foreshore was lovely. Crowded later, but we went out before it got too warm while there weren't too many people on the sands. The weekend was brilliant. I drank cold beer, ate prawn pasta, nachos, read a lot and generally just relaxed. Then to finish it all off, breakfast this morning was amazing.
So I was playing some music as we drove down there. My wife made some comments about the song, and bam - I wrote the opening to a story in my head.
An idea is not a story. Nor is an opening. And I had nothing more. But I started playing with what I'd written, wrote a few more lines before I needed to know where I was going next. I opened a few files, a few unfinished scraps I'd written in the past, things I thought I might use one day, or simple writing exercises I'd done for fun. One of these leaped out at me, and as soon as I collided it with my new opening, I knew they would work together.
Within the hour I had the entire story outlined and started writing it.
I have 2,000 words of this beast done. I have a good feeling about it. I'm excited by it.
A productive weekend, a relaxing weekend. I like those.
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