In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

. . . are when the best ideas come.

Case in point.

Just the other day, I discovered a major problem with my new manuscript. All day I futzed around searching for a way to make it work my way. I could've changed it a couple ways to make it work, but it would have become a different story.

The new story would've been OK, but it would differ in a big way from the way I really want to write it.

I wrote a friend and spelled out the problem. She had a few suggestions - good ones - and I spent the evening pursuing one of her ideas. By the end of the night, I had a solid direction to follow up on the next morning.

Upstairs getting ready for bed - well after midnight - I had a V-8 moment. Duh! I knew exactly what to do. Such a simple answer, too. How come it took me all day?

I don't have the answer for that question. I do know this kind of thing happens to me a lot. After I give up concentrated focus on a problem and think about something else, the answer often pops into my head. Usually this is right before bedtime or right when I awake in the mornings.

It's as if my subconscious says, "About time you gave up and let me handle it."


Laura Eno said…
And leave pen and paper next to your bed! Every time I think I will remember the gem that popped into my brain's twilight moments, but don't write it down, it's gone the next day.
Angela said…
I have learned to follow that inner voice and let go of my efforts. As soon as I have gathered the facts I usually go for a walk with my dog and forget all other things. And suddenly, bang, there I KNOW the solution. Luckily to me it happens in broad daylight!
Carol Kilgore said…
That's a smart way to operate, Angela. Maybe I'll remember to try that with my next problem.
Helen Ginger said…
Some of my best ideas come to me as I'm drifting off to sleep or just waking up. You can get lighted pads or lighted pens. I always found those useful so I could jot notes without waking up my husband.
Carol Kilgore said…
I'm going to look for one of the lighted products. It's a long hall down dark stairs. Thanks, Helen.
Jackie Vick said…
Good to know I'm not alone.