I’ve been getting this itch lately. Not like an under the skin itch but a brain itch.
Weird I know, but apparently it’s perfectly normal.
It’s like the hellion to Writer’s Block, but it won’t let me focus on one thing. For the last three years I made myself a promise, I can’t write any lengthy fiction until I finish my first novel. I stuck to it by a T. Since that time has ended, and my novel is done and published, I’ve been bouncing from project to project.
I have been doing this genre jumping thing. It’s sort of out of character for me. I stick to monsters and blood mostly. But this itch, it’s making me write in an unexpected way. I’m pushing my own writing boundaries. By creating scenarios and scenes that are completely out of what I call my “comfort zone”. I’m spending every hour when I should be asleep wracking my head of plot loop holes.
In the wees hours of the morning I will be going through cases of making a story so believable, there’s no way it can’t be true. I’m stepping out my head and finding a myth that everyone knows, and shoving it out there. Giving it a life, by showing it to the world in its most gruesome form. My next novel investigates one of these situations.
This itch, is pushing me to step out of Brooke’s World and telling the story of a myth no one wants to be true. As humans, we often times try to disassociate with the truth.
As writers it is our job to show the side no one wants to believe. We have to say it in a way that is upsetting. Otherwise it will get lost in the news of yesterday as everything else does eventually.
If it’s not controversial, it will probably be long forgotten. That is the world we live in.
The key lies in turning the itch in ones head, into a story that gets in their face, looks them in the eyes and says “You damn well better remember this”. Then three or so years later they remember back to it, and again it doubles them over by a punch to the gut.
That is the kind of story a brain itch deems to create.