I am having a bloody awful time writing today. The words just won’t come. Or is that the problem? Maybe, it’s the idea I’m stuck on. I am desperately trying to submit a few stories to the Black Library’s open submissions thingy yet I just can’t seem to come up with a good idea. I could damn well scream.
This morning I woke up with a fucking blinding idea. I thought to myself ‘This is the one! This is the one I am going to submit because it’s just so freaking awesome.’ I must have compiled maybe a page worth of notes in under five minutes. I’m not talking random ideas either. I’m talking a beginning, middle and end. I’m talking full plot outline baby. Everything was going to be alright, I could almost feel I was catapulting myself into a better life via my Trebuchet of awe-inspiring talent.
At some point after I had compiled my notes I went to take a shit. Nothing strange there. I took a book though. I mean I always take a book, but this one shattered my whole mornings work. Well, you know… that whole five minutes of notes. I have read just about everything I can get my hands on that has been printed by the Black Library. I was supremely confident I knew all of the major events in the 40K universe, all the major characters, plot lines, story arcs… the fucking lot. Yet, the book I sat down on my throne to read this morning was a collection of short stories only recently compiled by the Black Library. I started reading the first story and my world dropped out of my arse. Literally in fact.
That was my fucking story!
Well, apparently it was their fucking story. Imagine if I had sent the bloody thing off. I’m fairly sure I would have been done for plagiarism. They were that similar.
Oh well, there is always tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll be visited in my sleep by this elusive muse person/thing. We’ll have to see I guess.