Me, stuff and one bizarre crossover.

[new_kate]

Sometimes I have feelings about stuff. Like, opinions on issues. Sometimes I want to write about them. It never ever works.

1) I feel strongly about a Problem. Pretty much feel the same way everyone else does, though, nothing groundbreaking, but want to vent, so one day I get all worked up about, oh, I don't know, say, littering.
2) I compose an outline of a story about littering. Where pollution torments the earth till it decides to strike back, and only a cunning plan devised by a raven-haired heroine saves puny humans from attack of hive-minded plants. Or earth slowly dies from the garbage poisoning to the backdrop of the doomed love affair between a chemist and a struggling artist, who talk about Hinduism and recycling and have explicit sex.
3) I briefly consider going into speech-writing just to watch my employer get pelted with rotten fruit as he delivers my creations.
4) I think up a completely different story, making litter a mere secondary character. Now it's all about a horticulture student helplessly torn between a raven-haired heroine and a cute bitchy bishonen with a dark past, who are both his soulmates and have all met each other at their local recycling center. Or it's set in a post-apocalyptic totalitarian future, where a rogue team of dissident archaeologists piece together the forbidden past by secretly digging up a landfill, with often humourous consequences.
5) I look at the outline, shudder and get rid of all the scenes that focus on littering.
6) I write what's left, and during the first edit get completely disgusted with myself and delete every single sentence that has litter-related words in it.
7) I end up with an odd little story about everyday lives of people who don't litter and have kinky sex, and also about lizard-like creatures from outer space who are trying to steal all our neon isotopes.
*headdesks* Why?

Anyway, icons. Because runefallstar infected my brain.

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