You go for a walk, when suddenly you get an idea for a story or a blog post and you say to yourself, “Wow, I better rush home to write this down before I forget!”
So, of course you pick up the pace and scramble home, trying desperately to hold on to that thought because it’s got the makings of a fantastic first sentence. You scrunch your eyebrows, trying to concentrate on that thought and lock it into your brain so you’ll remember it perfectly until you get home and can write it down on a piece of paper or on your computer. And all the while you’re saying to yourself:
“I can’t forget. I can’t forget. Please don’t let me forget.”
As you briskly walk home, you start imagining how wonderful it’ll be to see this amazing idea you’ve been contemplating become the beginning of your published book which is sure to be a best seller. With an opening line like that, it’s destined to stay 40 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list, right?
And you can just picture all the middle school kids who groan when they hear they have to read Hemingway’s “The Old Man and the Sea,” but you know they’ll be thrilled like nobody’s business when they’re told they’ll be reading your book, instead. All because of the opening sentence which is truly remarkable. And to think, you cleverly came up with it on your walk today.
But you’re not home yet and you haven’t written it down. As you quicken your steps you find yourself wondering why you walked so far from home, anyway. Honestly, you realize you’ve should’ve made it a policy to NEVER walk further than a half block radius from your house, just to avoid situations like this.
But then, of course, you remember you were trying to meet your Fitbit goal for the day and weren’t quite there yet which is why you walked this far in the first place. In your sandals no less!
Exactly what were you thinking going out in that footwear?
I mean, why you didn’t wear your sneakers, you’ll never know but you’re kicking yourself now, aren’t you? Because those sandals weren’t made for walking long distances and now they’re pinching you. You got them because they’re cute, not practical and now you’re paying for it, aren’t you. Oh, bother.
But you figure as soon as you cut that book and movie deal you will buy yourself a whole closet of comfortable yet stylish shoes–custom made! Because you’ll be able to afford it. After all, you’re going places!
Of course all this thinking made you miss your turn for home so now you’re backtracking and suddenly it dawns on you. That bright idea is fading away!
And here, you were so sure it was going to win you the Pulitzer Prize. So you’ve got to remember it!
Which makes you desperate. You pause to look around, overcome with panic, and a thin hope that the fabulous idea will do a somersault back into your head. For a nanosecond it almost does, and you’re so relieved but then you notice you’re standing by the front door to your place and a new thought pops into your head:
You’re home at last!
Now you’re inside and looking for somewhere to write down that brilliant idea that’s become so minuscule, a whisper of an idea and you’re trying your best to smack it awake while searching for a sheet of paper, a used envelope–SOMETHING!
But, there’s nothing in sight to write on! For crying out loud!
You’re about to run upstairs because you know you left a pad of paper on your desk. And just as you’re about to take the steps two by two, it’s over. Whatever that great you had–the one that was going to be your ticket to writing that Great American novel or your next blog post, is gone.
Yes, you officially, plumb forgot it, no questions asked. Arrivederci Roma.
And that, my friend, is the story of my life.
Epilogue: The great idea is still at large, having left high and dry. If you find it, let me know. There’s a reward, after all.