The other day I wrote the first three chapters of a new novel. I mapped out a rough idea of where I wanted the book to go and toyed around with some ideas for a surprising twist. Not only that, but I did this while simultaneously cleaning up dog poop, observing waterfowl and getting some much needed exercise. Amazing, no?
Okay, full disclosure: I did all of the above completely in my head. There was no actual writing be it pen to paper or hands to keyboard, but this is because no one has gotten around to creating a dog walking desk yet. That is, until now.
I present this year's must have Christmas gift for writer's everywhere, Alissa Grosso's Patented Dog Walk Desk:
So, maybe my engineering skills and my Photoshop skills leave something to be desired. This is why I should probably stick to writing, but even writers need to walk their dogs and leave the comfort of their desks once in awhile. In fact, I often find that when I do this is when the inspiration strikes.
Surely, a Dog Walk Desk would help me capitalize on these moments of brilliance, or would it? Maybe the reason I've mentally written the beginnings of countless novels while my dog is busy marking every tree we pass is because I'm freed from the limits of my keyboard and that glaring blank Word document not to mention pesky things like grammar and proper sentence structure.
Imaginations are free to wander when we are otherwise engaged with mundane tasks like dog walks, long distance drives or the occasional shower that writers take when they are forced to shed their grubby writer sweats and venture out into the big, scary world.
With this in mind, and because I'm worried about what would happen to my computer if my dog happened to see the border collie that he loathes with an all-consuming and completely unjustified passion during one of our walks, I think I'm not going to invest in a Dog Walk Desk. I'll stick to my tried and true method of mentally writing the beginnings of novels during our walks aware that most will never be more than a thought in my head or a note scribbled on the back of a receipt, that when consulted six months later will mean absolutely nothing.
That's okay because every once in awhile one of these beginnings will actually turn out to be something halfway decent, a book perhaps or the idea that sparks the creation of a piece of mobile furniture that will revolutionize the way people write books and walk dogs.
Hey, there, I'm Alissa, I'm new around these parts, and I look forward to sharing my thoughts on each month's topic here at YA Outside the Lines. Also, is it wrong that I'm inordinately proud of myself for managing to use the word 'poop' in the first paragraph of my first post?