So why is it, when I have two stories I'm currently in love with, eager to work on, that I find myself bombarded with so many nuggets for new tales?
One in particular is beginning to get to me, and I found myself putting aside my original work tonight to scour the net for additional information. Searching to see what had been done. Trying to find out if I could write it and not be repetitive. Not that I find my Spuffy really all that unique. I know my strength in my writing is my plots. I like having to think about my stories, but that doesn't mean I don't wish that sometimes I could be more introspective, more of the reach into your gut and twist it around with insight kind of writer. But that's not me. And that's OK. I'm fine with that.
But this one...this one, I think, would need me to be more reflective. I'm not sure yet. I haven't found my hook that gets into my skin and says, "You must start writing me now." It's the character that's calling out to me, and he keeps whispering in my ear about all the possibilities, how lovely it would be for him to find love, and wouldn't it be just dandy if it was Buffy? And I want to give it to him, though I know it's not time yet. It's coming, though. I can feel it. He's there, just beyond my fingertips, a shy smile on his face but a mischievous gleam in his eye, and he wants me to put his tale on paper. Metaphorical paper, that is.
I just have to find it first.