Everything is a Writing Prompt

Everything is a writing prompt. I have to remind myself of that when real life gets to be too frustrating. It’s all fodder for the stories.

Well I’ve been getting some good story fodder lately. I still have to digest it and figure out where everything goes, but the frustration levels have had be mumbling “it’s all a writing prompt, it’s all a writing prompt, it’s all a writing prompt…” as I clean up yet another mess. Most have been psychological messes, but still those have to get cleaned up, too. And it’s not like I can get my Sweetie to clean them up for me.

Starting with the ongoing frustration of living with my mother, that’s just not going to go away, but I know all the most annoying things that someone can do to another. Living in tight quarters with someone you don’t get along with but can’t just shove out the airlock is a learning experience. Throw that in the book. That someone wants to get a dog? Oh yeah, that’s going to be another whole subplot I’m sure. Maybe two.

Then there’s the momentary frustrations, like scheduling plumbers to come fix the leak in the bathroom. That should have been done a while ago, but it’s happening now. Or is it? We had to be up, showered and dressed for the plumbers at 9:00. By the time we left for the library at 10:00 they still weren’t there. So we sit in the library like a couple of bums all day, hoping they showed up and are getting the work done because we want our house back. Oh, yeah, that’s the other fun thing – we had to trace all the water lines and move anything that was in the way. Now most of my office, my husband’s office, the kitchen and bathroom are stacked between the couch and the TV so we don’t get to use that room either. The bedroom at least is still in tact, but the cats aren’t happy about being stuck in there. There are so many stories in here I can’t even count them all.

Another momentary frustration are all the meetings that still happen after the convention. As if my agoraphobic self didn’t have a hard enough time recovering from the big party with over 6,000 geeks, I have to go back and meet with over 400 of them two weeks later. There’s another story or three.

Take a meeting with a new consultant helping me get the details right. Sounds good until you realize it’s the day after the big meeting where I actually had to talk. And it was scheduled in a popular coffee shop on a Sunday morning where I had to share a table with someone I don’t know. So my plan to ask the consultant to move someplace less popular as soon as he got there was scuttled by him standing me up.

About now, I feel like I’m living in a soap opera and wondering why my house isn’t a mansion and my car is still 10 years old. I look around and hear the moaning and groaning of people around me and realize this is normal. All around, life is throwing monkey wrenches into everyone’s plans and basically making a mess of things. So I just have to get through this rough patch and process all the tripping stones into plot points and I’ll be set for the next decade’s worth of writing.

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