Insomnia

[ksmith]

Awoke at around 330am, and tossed/turned for an hour or so. I'm never afflicted with light 'n' happy thoughts at times like these. Instead, I seem to get hit with ponderables like:

1) My place in the universe, and the purpose of my life
2) My place in the publishing universe, what the hell I think I'm trying to prove, and is this business really as screwed-up as I think it is?
3) What will happen to the dogs if anything happens to me?
4) When am I going to have that will drawn up, anyway?
5) Is that twinge in my side really just a muscle pull, or the first signs of something I really don't want to think about?

I wish imaginations had on/off switches. When part of your day is spent fomenting crises in some poor character's universe, the thought sometimes occurs that 330am is that character's revenge.

Comments

[galeni.livejournal.com]

How frustrating. Maybe it is the characters trying to get even. Lord knows I don't want to think about answers to those questions much, either.

[kateelliott.livejournal.com]

Fortunately, I rarely wake up at 330 am, but when I do, my thoughts run in similar hamster circles, or else I go straight into "oh god, I'm going to be dead some day."

[kristine-smith.livejournal.com]

Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, doesn't it?

[kateelliott.livejournal.com]

Yeah, but otoh I have accepted that it is precisely this cast of mind that allows me to write fiction.

[kristine-smith.livejournal.com]

Yeah, but otoh I have accepted that it is precisely this cast of mind that allows me to write fiction.

That is the kicker.

I remember reading an interview with Stephen King where he discussed something like this. He said that most parents worry at times that their child could get hit by a car while crossing the street. His problem, he went on to say, is that he can imagine the scene--the oncoming car, the moment of panic, the impact, the pain, the fear. The sounds.

It's not always fun. One comfort is that we are occasionally paid for the privilege of sharing the joy.