I'm sitting in the Doctor's office - waiting for my physical to begin. I'm wearing a thin blue gown that would get me arrested if I wore it anywhere else but there. I'm waiting, half naked, for 1/2 an hour, sitting on the examining table, swinging my feet back and forth thinking. Thinking: "I'd really like to steal one of those tongue depressers." But I didn't. Then I was thinking of a good opening line for a novel and I thought: "I should write that down before I forget it." So, I'm trying to remember if I have a pen in my purse, and then I'm contemplating writing it on a tongue depresser (they won't mind too much, would they - especially not if my book is any good). I'm just about to hop off the table to "borrow" one of the sticks when I decide I should rummage through my bag for a scrap of paper first. Low and behold, my writing book is actually in there for a change. Then I'm thinking: "okay, it's a sign, this story is meant to be."
I wrote down about half of the first chapter. Developed in my mind 3 of the characters, the setting, and the general plot. I even came up with the perfect title and ran through a list of publishers (in my head, of course) that would consider such a novel.
Now I'm thinking: "is it wrong that I thanked the Doctor for being late?"
2 comments:
Steve does his best thinking when he's out on the balcony having a cigarette. Perfectly understandable, the location for your epiphany! Now it's a case of continuing with the story. Does this mean you'll have to make another doctor's appointment?
Perhaps weekly!! Do you think she would mind if I took my laptop??
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