Oh, I’ve got this grand, sweeping, twisted drama forming in my writer’s brain. I could gorge on the research until my OCD popped (oh my, isn’t that an unpleasant image?).
Anyhow, it would be delicious fun and I could work on it forever. The backstory could unfold in brilliant layers of generations and centuries (à la George R. R. Martin).
Yes, it would be a devilish good time… if only I was a wee-bit saner.
Alas, I and my crazy-heavy brain would tumble into the process headfirst, never to emerge from the sweeping, twisted depths again.
Perhaps it’s for the best.
No popped OCD to scrape off the walls.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
