Yesterday, Brian James said something about taking notes when I run, which I do, but not with paper or anything. That would be problematic, especially on days like today when it is pouring freezing rain and there are wind gusts of -- I'm estimating -- pug-levitating velocity.
But I am going out in 90 minutes from now, anyway.
Wish me luck. I will have floaties.
But Brian's question made me realize something because I am, even as I write this, in the midst of it: I do take notes. I write notes about what I'm writing and what I plan on writing all the time. I do not outline, though. Outlines are different.
They are oppressive.
Notes are kind of like the ingredients in a recipe. If I look up a recipe for something, I can tell everything I need to know by its list of ingredients. I already know if I'm going to like it or not.
So, even though this is a recipe for disaster -- despite the fact that I've promised myself there would be a National Not-Writing celebration looming in the outline of my future -- I have begun assembling notes on yet another novel that I -- God help me -- will start writing in the next couple weeks, after I've assembled the whole list of ingredients.
Scary.
