I struggled all day today to come up with an idea. I don't why. I just couldn't seem to engage my brain. I know I've still not completely gotten over my bronchitis and this week at work has been particularly hectic as I've supervised the restocking of our new Physics library at the University, so I wonder whether it's simply exhaustion. Not that I want to make excuses here. So I was sat up in bed at midnight dragging this story, kicking and screaming, out of my head. It's days like this when I wonder what the hell I'm doing as is it worth it when the ideas feel so desperate. Am I compromising my talents, my imagination?
Anyway I don't know where it came from but the title of the Shakespeare play Love's Labour's Lost popped into my head just as I was looking at the Fisher Price Treehouse sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed (I spent the night at my parents house and was sleeping the room usually used by my nephew, Cameron). That was when the idea of a girl that builds (or doesn't) a treehouse that is so poorly constructed it comes down in a storm. Given that I always seem to write characters that readers can empathise with I decided to write a character that you wanted to loathe, and in turn fail in her quest. I think I finished it at about 2am in the morning.
Enjoy
The Imaginary Scrapbook
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