I always listen to the words

So I was very proud of myself for reopening a story that I'd previously written. For whatever reason, it had been on my mind lately and I kept thinking that it just had something. A nugget of brilliance, if I do say so myself. But you have to do some serious mining to find it.

It's been resting now for a good six months, so I figured I could be more objective about it now. I tend to fall in love a little too much with my own description (this is where I excel), so I need the resting period in order to stop cooing over accidental, but lovely alliteration and the turn of the phrase. I don't know why my brain works this way, but I've always been a sucker for words. I like clever and sometimes I get too rapt in the melifluous words to see that the whole piece needs CPR.

I opened the piece as it was last revised. I had a time limit since my daughter was at nursery school, so I got right down to business. I turned on the comments to give myself a good talking to. The first page was great! Man, it had a catchy opening, the dialogue was good, the description was right on. The characters were taking on a personality. I was grinning to myself, thinking, "You see, you were right! This one is good. It has something."

Then there was the second page and the third. Still interesting, some great elements, but I already had to insert a few comments. Then the plot began to escalate and the climax was coming (oy, please don't go there) and things were starting to get, well, a little ridiculous. This story was a spinoff of a larger idea which I had never fleshed out and somehow I guess I figured the whole world would know that when reading it. It made no sense whatsoever! G-sus.

The comments couldn't even keep up anymore. I realized I had worked my lovely story into an almost undoable, tightly pulled knot. There was action and suspense (are you surprised?), but no freakin' basis in any kind of reality. What was I thinking? I'll tell you what. I was thinking that I liked my own words, who needs plot anyway?

Now I am still trying to figure out if I can salvage something good from this conundrum. I might be too lazy to write the whole long story that I originally dreamt up. (I don't think dreamt is a word, but I like it. My grandma says words like that.) Anyway, at least I cracked the cover after a very, very long hiatus. I have to put the little math/science nerd that lives in my brain to work on this puzzle. As most of my deep thoughts and ideas in life, I hope the solution will appear in my sleep. If not, at least in the shower.