I have a nice long commute to work.On the way in, I often talk on the phone for most of the hour and 20 minutes I’m on the road. The way home is a different story.
I rock out to some 80s music, plot out my current stories..
And flat out make shit up.
Such as… I was sitting in traffic, bit only my lane of the 4 south bound lanes was stopped. Loozing at the little blue prius in front of me, i thought wouldn’t it be weird if someone stopped because they were hallucinating a car in front of them? The traffic jam they thought they were in is actually caused by them.
Traffic started moving, my brain wandered onto other things… aND I noticed it wasn’t a little blue prius in front of me. My heart dropped, and I caught my breath.
Then the car moved over, and there was my friendly little blue prius..I’ve never been so relieved to see a strangers car in my life.
And that, my lovelies, iso what having a writers brain is like.