I never know when the muse will strike, when something in my day to day will transfer to my writing. I can't tell you of all the weird and wonderful things that happen in my day to day job, but those experiences must carry over somehow to the fictitious stories I try to sell. I don't know how the events of Rowling's mundane days infused her mythic tales of Harry, but they must have tainted her tea, so to speak.
I guess that is the best way to look at it. I must sift through what I experience, pick out the tastiest and most flavorful moments, tie them together in a bag of thought and time, and drop them in the hot water of an afternoon's writing session. The moment someone's phone went off in a middle of a lesson, twice, causing the n-word to be sung liberally over and over again as the student sort of, not really, quickly tried to get his cracked screen to respond to his commands and shut off the insipid noise. The maddening sight of scores of blurry pictures turned in from the yearbook staff at the end of a wonderful pep rally filled with precious and perfect yearbook moments that will now never see the light of day. The look of utter happy embarrassment on several faces as a goofy, somehow in-focus photo from the aforementioned pep rally was displayed onscreen for all to see. Heated discussions of Trump, people who identify as a different race and the ramifications thereof, and why did slaves allow slavery to happen. Who knows how those moments will end up?
Pic for today is a scene down a long building, eerily lit at regular intervals. Not Halloween yet, but a hint of it floats through the air...
