When I was young, I used to collect stones. It didn’t matter where they came from: beaches, rivers, streams, and parking lots alike, I could always find a gem. Of course, this was where I learned that most stones look better when they’re wet, and so my room was typically filled with jars of dry, gray, and disappointing pebbles. And, of course, it never really occurred to me that a rock tumbler would do the trick, if not a good dose of oil. But by the time I came to that realization, I had already dumped the majority of my unimpressive rocks into the gravel of my old driveway.
Again, you’d think I would have come up with that idea when I still had my rocks. At least I have it figured out with my novels. Because let’s face it, there are always many ideas tumbling around in my head. The real question is: which idea will I take out next?