I mentioned a while back that driving is conducive to plotting for me. I particularly like long trips alone, where my conscious mind is focused on driving while those little beta waves are free to roam where they will. I keep a tape recorder in the car and talk to it, trying out plotlines and honing characters' fine points. I'm often surprised when I transcribe them later and find forgotten nuggets of creativity that are pure gold.
It's also kind of funny to listen to them, because the background noises, the asides to other drivers (often not worth repeating) and the huge jumps in subject matter give me a picture of the drive from a different perspective as well as an image of myself that is quite revealing. Did I know that I mumble a lot, take looong pauses to think, used very dated superlatives and epithets? I do now. On the plus side, did I work out a lot of things that have been bugging me for weeks? Yes, and that makes it all worthwhile, even the jerk in the pickup truck who wouldn't let me pass for ten miles. He is a rat fink, no matter how antiquated the expression might be.
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