For months now, I've been struggling, trying to write, wanting to want to write, but not being able to do so. Not for lack of ideas, but for lack of ... traction, shall we say, both mental and emotional. None of my ideas would glom together into some kind of whole, and I couldn't make myself care and focus long enough, hard enough to force them to. I needed something bigger, something to fit everything into, to give context and relevancy and coherency.
And I think I finally have it.
I'm pretty sure I finally have it, actually, because this started yesterday before work and now it's 4:30 am today and there's a WORLD still unfolding inside my head and that has never, never happened before. And I can finally begin to see how all my disparate, recalcitrant, unfinished stories fit together. I want to write about this place, this history, these people, and it's almost too much.
(I also want to go to sleep, but that doesn't appear likely to happen any time soon. At least I don't have work tomorrow.)