Writing

Perhaps some people are just not destined to be writers.

Alone, perhaps while bicycling, or driving to work the most amazing ideas leap fully formed into my mind. Occasionally I try to write down notes about them, the ideas. I have even tried a dictation recorder.

Invariably the ideas either evaporate when they are spoken of, or the feeble notes fail to spark any remembrance of the glorious concepts that once arose, fully winged, ready to burst into flight, to conquer the world…

Why me?

Or perhaps why not me.

Someone once told me that “There are people who write, there are people with something to say, and there are people who can write. Only writers can do all three.”

I seem to be failing at combining these…