You know those bags full of live crickets you can buy to feed reptilian pets? Well, imagine you are holding one of those bags, and it suddenly slips from your hands and bursts open on the floor. Hundreds of crickets go leaping off in every direction, while you scrabble around on your hands and knees, desperately trying to scoop them up.
Some days, that’s what writing feels like.
You start out with a solid idea of what you want to accomplish, then the minute you sit down at your computer, or with a notebook and pencil in your hand, the words go leaping off in all directions, while you desperately dart around, trying to grab one by the leg as hundreds of others crawl under the refrigerator.
I still haven’t figured out a good method for getting the crickets under control.